


Felt the blood rushing through my veins, I still remember

by Samcgrath



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Hate at First Sight, M/M, Rich snob Harry, Stable boy Louis, and I'm gonna stop now, and just basically getting on each other's nerves, like Mr. Darcy levels of glaring, lots of glaring and smoldering looks, oh also smut, top!Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-14 21:17:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1279153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samcgrath/pseuds/Samcgrath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is the heir to his father's estate and wealth and he knows he is the most eligible bachelor in all of England. Louis is the stable boy who everyone loves and adores even though he can be a touch too bitter sometimes. They can't stand each other, and the pride of one and the prejudice of the other disallows any other feelings they might have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I saw your face, I heard your name

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so few things. There will be some inconsistencies with the language and mannerisms and cursing for the specified period but I've tried my best. And some of these things cough *curses* cough are just needed for the plot. The places will definitely be messed up because no matter how much I love England and would give anything to be familiar with the place, I am not. 
> 
> Thank you Hannah for being wonderful and proof-reading. Also, for giving me the cues-this is basically your own tailor-made custom fanfiction. Cheers!

“There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.” — Jane Austen

***

 

He wakes up to loud clanging noises from the main hall and he can almost tell that Ms. Baker is pointedly banging the pots and pans to get him to wake up. Groaning and rubbing his eyes, Louis finally gets up from his old yet comfortable bed and gathers his things to take a quick bath before going over to the stable.

 

It’s always like this in the mornings, Ms. Baker lets him sleep in a bit longer than the other maids and servants but the banging of pots and pans only starts when he doesn’t show up in the main house by nine. 

 

Mr. Styles doesn’t need his carriage till ten so Louis has enough time to get ready and go to the stable to feed the horses and get the carriage in order. He hums a familiar tune as he sneaks into the kitchen through the back door and Ms. Baker greets him with a warm smile.

 

“There you are, Louis. I was afraid you were going to be too late. Mr. Styles is leaving for London today and he says he needs the carriage ready at half nine. Do you want breakfast now or after?”

 

“I’d rather get the carriage ready then. If you could save me some, that’d be great.”

 

“Of course, just come back after you are done in the stable.”

 

“Thanks, Ms. Baker.”

 

“You don’t have to thank me everyday, Louis.”

 

“I’d rather do it anyway. Makes you smile when I do, and it reminds me of my mum.”

 

He walks out before she can look at him with pity, if there is one thing he can’t stand it’s being looked at with pity. It makes him feel small, like he doesn’t matter. 

 

Well, he doesn’t really matter. But it’s still nice to be able to fool himself into thinking that he does. 

 

While Ms. Baker is really kind to him, saves him food and tends to him when he is sick, he still can’t help but feel the loss of his mother. He hasn’t seen her or his four sisters in over two years now ever since he had come to work on the Styles' estate. 

 

This place is nice, the people are kind hearted and nobody ever says anything mean to him but he still misses his home. He is paid well here for doing light work and he sends most of the money to his mum but he can’t afford to go visit her yet. 

 

But he is saving up, so someday.

 

He smiles at the memory of his mum being angry with him when he first told her he wanted to move to Longbourn, she had cried for days trying to change his mind. But in the end, she had conceded that they needed the money to raise the girls well.

 

Lost in his own thoughts, he finally makes his way to the carriage horses and starts feeding them. The stable is his sanctuary, this is where he hides out most of the day when there is no work to be done. No one disturbs him here until there are guests who want to ride the horses or when Ms. Gemma comes in during the evenings to take Jasper out for a ride.

 

He is whistling a low tune standing next to the carriage in front of the main house when he hears footsteps and sees three figures approach.

 

“Do you have everything you need? I can call Ms. Baker if—“

 

“Yes, I have everything I need, my dear. No need to worry poor Ms. Baker, she’s just finished up with breakfast. You shouldn’t worry either, I will be back by next week.”

 

“Don’t forget to send us word when you arrive in London, father.”

 

“I will, Gemma. I won’t forget. And your brother will be arriving sometime this afternoon. Keep your mother calm and don’t let her fuss too much.”

 

“I am standing right here, Mr. Styles.”

 

“I know, love. But we both know Gem here is much better at handling Harry than either of us.”

 

“I can’t believe you are going away the day he is coming back after three years.”

 

“I have to or else I would never miss him coming back home. And I should get going now if I want to get there in time.”

 

“Take care, papa.”

 

“You too, Gemma.”

 

Mr. Styles embraces his wife and daughter before turning around to Louis and smiling at him like he does every morning.

 

“How are you this morning, Louis?”

 

“I am fine sir, thank you.”

 

“Good, good. Now, I am going away for a week on business and my son Harry is arriving this afternoon. You haven’t met him yet, he’s around your age but a bit younger. Anyway, I need you to keep my girls safe till I get back. Would you do that for me, Louis?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Good boy. I will see you in a week then, take care.”

 

“You too, Sir. Safe journey.”

 

He closes the door of the carriage once Mr. Styles has sat down and off he goes. 

 

His own father had left when he was four and he doesn’t know Daniel very well although his mother swears he is the best man. Mr. Styles has been the closest thing to a father he has. And he never treats Louis poorly, or makes him feel like he is a servant. 

 

He can still remember the day he had saved Ms. Gemma from falling off the horse and Mr. Styles had pulled him into an embrace and called him ‘son’ before thanking him profusely.

 

Mrs. Styles comes up behind him and puts a warm hand on his shoulder. 

 

“Louis, have you had breakfast yet?”

 

“No, Mrs. Styles. I had to prepare the carriage so I told Ms. Baker I’d eat later.”

 

“Okay, come on then. There’s some toast and tea left. I could use some more tea as well.”

 

He walks in behind her as Ms. Gemma smiles at him and leads him to the kitchen. He thinks that he couldn’t have found a better family to work for. Everyone is so kind and he never feels like he is being paid to be here and serve these people.

 

The whole time all they talk about is the mysterious Harry. Mrs. Styles tells him he is two years younger than Louis and is coming back from school in Birmingham. 

 

Louis hopes he is as nice as the rest of his family. On any rate, he would still have to get along with him. This is his house after all and Louis is just a stable boy.

 

***

 

Harry hates travelling long distances and especially in the middle of the day when it’s so warm. He is close to Longbourn now though, he can tell from the farms passing by outside his window. He had played in these empty fields as a young boy. 

 

He can’t wait to see his mother and Gemma. His father is away on business though, his letter this morning had said. Going home after three years has made him a bit anxious. After living away from home and on his own, he fears he has changed a lot. 

 

And everyone else would’ve changed too, he’s been thinking. Three years is a long time, after all. 

 

He still remembers leaving here as a child. He is still a child arguably but now he knows the ways of the world. Birmingham is so much bigger than Derbyshire and the life there is so much faster than it is in sleepy Longbourn.

 

He feels like he has learnt so much in these few years, he could easily survive on his own even though he is still a fortnight away from twenty.

 

When the carriage finally enters the estate, he feels a nervous thrum of excitement under his skin. He can see his mother and Gemma rushing out of the house to greet him at the door and he hardly waits for the carriage to stop before jumping out and rushing into his mother’s open arms. 

 

“Harry! We have been waiting for you the whole day. Oh, let me look at you. You’ve grown up so much. Oh, my son is finally here!”

 

“It’s so good to be back, mum. I missed you.”

 

“Me too, love. Me too.”

 

“You are still thin like a twig.”

 

“Gemma!”

 

“And you are still too brash to be a lady.”

 

“I never claimed to be a lady.”

 

He kisses her on her dimpled cheek before holding her tight to his chest. He has missed both of them so much and he knows he won’t allow himself to show affection like this after now so if he holds them both a bit longer than absolutely necessary, he doesn’t dwell on it.

 

When they finally let him go and his mother stops cooing over him, he turns around to the carriage driver and pays him. Out of the corner of his eye he sees movement and turns to see a young boy move toward the carriage.

 

“Louis, could you take Harry’s luggage in? Just keep it in the room upstairs, please.”

 

“Yes, Mrs. Styles.”

 

Harry wasn’t expecting the boy to sound so high, his voice makes him seem much younger than his appearance would give away. 

 

“Thanks, love.”

 

He startles at the term of endearment his mother uses with the boy. Curiosity builds in him when the boy just smiles back at her and lifts the heavy luggage to carry it in. 

 

Harry almost steps forward to take it from him, it seems too heavy for his frail frame but the boy moves swiftly and walks into the house before Harry can get to him.

 

“Come on Harry, let’s get you something to eat. You must be starving.”

 

“Yes, mum.”

 

“How was your journey? Was it too—“

 

He doesn’t mean to interrupt her but curiosity gets the better of him and he can’t stop the question before it spills out of his mouth.

 

“Mum, who was that?”

 

“Who? Oh, Louis. He helps out around the house and keeps the stable. I forgot you two don’t know each other, well I’ll introduce you when we see him then.”

 

“It’s alright, he’s just a stable boy.”

 

“Harry!”

 

“Isn’t he?”

 

“He is but Louis does more than tend to horses and your father and I are rather fond of him.”

 

“Somedays it seems like papa adores him more than me.”

 

Gemma puts in casually as they sit down at the kitchen table.

 

“Somedays, I wonder if your father adores Louis more than me. He really does love that boy.”

 

His mother is smiling at him but somehow he can’t smile back at her. 

 

“Master Styles! You are here, finally.”

 

“Ms. Baker, how are you?”

 

“Oh, I’m alright sir. How was your journey?”

 

“Call me Harry, Ms. Baker. You’ve known me since I was a baby. The journey was fine, thank you. Could I get a cup of tea?”

 

“Of course, let me just put on the kettle. Oh and madam, Louis has kept the luggage in the bedroom and he brought the things you asked for from town.”

 

“Oh great, he is so quick that boy. I’ll thank him when I see him.”

 

“I’ll get the tea.”

 

Harry is silently observing this conversation and he feels Gemma’s eyes on him. When he looks at her, she looks back with a curious expression on her face. He offers her a polite smile and gets back into the conversation with his mum.

 

About an hour later when every question he could think of has been thrown at him by his mother and sister, he walks out of the house and after a while of aimless wandering around his feet carry him toward a low whistling sound he can hear coming from the stable.

 

When he enters he sees a silhouette in the corner lying down in the hay. As he walks closer, he recognises the figure to be the boy from before – Louis, his mother had said.

 

“Is this all you do around here? Lie down and whistle?”

 

He can tell he’s startled the boy with his voice, who stands up abruptly and walks a bit into the light.

 

Harry can make out his features much better now. His tan skin and dark hair are much clearer than they were before and his piercing blue eyes bore into Harry’s as he takes another step toward him and in a stiff voice responds,

 

“I also feed the horses, you hungry?”

 

It takes a moment for it to register what the boy has just said to him and when it does, Harry feels anger rise in him. Anger and this other unidentifiable surge that he pushes back down.

 

“Is that any way to talk to your employer?”

 

“You are not my employer, your father is. And I am not the one who came in here and insulted me the first words he spoke.”

 

“I was merely pointing out that you were lying down when you should be working.”

 

“And I was merely pointing out that you don’t pay me, your father does. And I’ve already finished all the chores I had. Would you like to check and take note?”

 

The biting reply from the boy makes him almost take a step back and he doesn’t like the feeling. The boy is staring at him with unrelenting eyes and his face set in a stiff manner. 

 

Harry can’t identify the sudden rush he can feel under his skin as he stares back and the silence gets to be a bit too much.

 

“I have more important things to do than check on the help.”

 

He says in a sharp manner that he hopes will make the smaller boy back down. He has never been a very aggressive person but for some reason this boy makes him want to be. 

 

“What, like walking around and staring at empty fields?”

 

He blinks then.

 

He had gone went for a walk for a few minutes before coming here and admired the fields but he wasn’t expecting this boy to know about that. And to throw it in his face like an insult.

 

“Were you following me?”

 

“I have more important things to do than check on people I don’t know.”

 

Anger flares in him and he has to clench his fist to keep control. The boy’s eyes flick to his clenched hand and Harry sees the ghost of a smirk on his thin lips and it makes him want to reach out and run away in equal parts.

 

He chooses the latter.

 

And he ignores the chuckle he hears as he walks out of the stable. The soft whistling continues shortly after.

 

***

 

Louis is just tying up Jasper as Ms. Gemma had brought him back after her evening ride when he hears his name being called. He hurriedly walks out of the stable to be met by Mrs. Styles standing outside the stable door with a polite smile on her face. Her son doesn’t look as welcoming where he’s standing half behind her with his chin jutting out defiantly and his face set in a scowl. Louis almost rolls his eyes before he remembers Mrs. Styles.

 

“Louis, thanks for getting me the goods from the shops today and the mail. Mr. Styles had sent a telegram, he’s arrived safely in London. Anyway, I just came to tell you to come over for supper tonight. Oh and Harry, wait you two don’t know each other. Louis, this is my son Harry. He’s younger than you by two years and he was in Birmingham for school.”

 

Louis looks over at the boy in question out of common courtesy and the bastard is looking back at him as if he is a Duke looking at a lowly servant. There’s a smirk on his face that Louis wants to wipe off so badly and the glint in his eye is so revolting. Louis nods his head the slightest before looking back at Mrs. Styles. 

 

“And Harry, this is Louis Tomlinson. He tends the stable for us and ends up doing everything I ask him. He’s been with us for two years now and he’s been keeping me good company in your absence. Like a good son.”

 

It’s his turn to smirk now and Harry looks like he wants to spill blood. There’s fire in his eyes as he glares at Louis and doesn’t even so much as nod. The bastard just stands glaring at him and it seems like they are having a staring battle now. Well, he is not going to blink first.

 

It’s been a quiet, awkward few moments as their eyes bore into each other and hold the silence till Mrs. Styles loudly clears her throat and Louis looks away.

 

“So get cleaned up and come over, Ms. Baker is almost done with supper. You don’t want it to get cold.”

 

And with that she turns around to walk to the main house. Louis is about to go back to his room behind the stable when he notices Harry is still standing there. He stops to look and the moment their eyes meet, he feels this sudden charge and it isn’t just him feeling it because Harry looks quite baffled too. He immediately looks down and then without a word turns around and walks back to the house.

 

Louis can’t help but shake his head and mutter a chosen few curse words as he makes his way to his room. If he mumbles the whole way to the main house then it’s his business and no one else’s.

 

***

 

Harry stops walking when he hears a muttered curse from behind him but when he turns around to look, Louis is already walking back into the stable. He stands fixed on the spot as he watches the retreating back and wonders why he had jolted when their eyes had met just moments ago.

 

And now he is standing alone in the dark looking at a stranger’s retreating back. Shaking his head, he makes his way back into the house and sits down silently at the dinner table, afraid he’ll say something he doesn’t mean to out loud. 

 

Gemma kicks him under the table and raises her eyebrows in question. 

 

“You are not supposed to kick people under the table, it’s unbecoming of—“

 

“If you say lady I will pour this fish sauce down your shirt.”

 

“You shouldn’t be talking like that, Gemma. You should—“

 

“Birmingham has turned you into such a snob, Harry.”

 

He glares at her and she glares right back. When she doesn’t look away, he huffs and is about to turn away when all of a sudden her eyes fall on something behind him and her whole face lights up. He only gets a moment of curiosity before she almost yells,

 

“Louis! Mum didn’t tell me you were coming. Here, come sit next to me.”

 

Harry looks adamantly down at his empty plate as the seat beside Gemma is now taken which puts Louis right across from Harry. Great.

 

People mill around them and voices fill the room as food is finally served. Gemma has gotten up to help mum and he and Louis are the only ones seated at the huge table. Both with their bodies taut and eyes darting around and looking anywhere but at each other. 

 

Harry feels a gaze on him but when he looks up Louis is looking at Gemma before he gets up to take the casserole she is carrying. He feels something unsettling inside him at the sight and he chalks it up to his dislike of the boy.

 

When all four of them are seated, mum starts asking him questions about Birmingham. He feels a bit more relaxed as he answers her and keeps his eyes firmly glued to her and Gemma.

 

“So, did you meet any good girls then?”

 

He can’t help the heat creeping up on his cheeks when she asks him that. He also can’t help how his eyes crawl over to Louis. He doesn’t know why but an irritation gnaws at him when he finds Louis looking at Gemma instead.

 

“I did, as a matter of fact.”

 

“You plan on marrying any of them?”

 

“I didn’t find anyone good enough.”

 

He hears two distinct snorts from opposite him and his eyes tear towards Gemma and Louis but they are both looking down at their plates now. He quietly eats his dinner and doesn’t speak again till he bids his mum and Gemma goodbye and pointedly ignores Louis to retire to his bedroom.

 

As he lays awake in bed hours later all he can think is how much everything has changed. How this stranger has burrowed his way into the life that use to be his. And now his mum calls him son and Gemma shares jokes with him. 

 

He is a stable boy. He shouldn’t even be sitting with them at the dinner table. 

 

Well, he is back now. And things are going to go back to the way they were before.

 

***


	2. My traces in your hair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the beautiful person that is Rave(I might've messed up the name horribly) has allowed me to use the beautiful pictures they made about the boys in period clothing. You will love them as much as I do and they make the thing easier to imagine, I find. The links are in end notes. Anyway, onward!

He wakes up to the sounds of life that are telling of a busy household – loud noises of people talking and pots and pans being used and somewhere in the distance chickens clucking. It takes him a moment to realize he is not at Birmingham anymore and Niall is not eating and lounging lavishly on the bed opposite his. 

 

He is home. And it is his mother in the kitchen cooking breakfast. It brings a smile to his face, he is finally back home. Although he is not sure what he is supposed to be doing now that he is here. At school, he could go to the library in the morning before he had to go for class. He could drag Niall along to go to Zayn and Liam’s room where they would spend hours just sitting around doing nothing. Sometimes they’d play cards or stupid games that Niall came up with. But they always had something to make the time pass. 

 

As he gets up and gets ready for a bath, he thinks about how life had been so different in Birmingham. He was his own man and he could do what he wanted. Here, he was answerable to his parents. And all he could do was sit around alone or walk about aimlessly. 

 

When he finally makes his way downstairs he is greeted by a swarm of people cleaning around and moving furniture. He walks toward the drawing room where he can hear his mum talking. He enters the door to find her talking hurriedly with Ms. Baker.

 

“—move the sofa to the library. We need some free space in the lobby for moving about anyway. And also—“

 

“Mother, what is going on? Why is everyone—“

 

“Oh Harry! Good morning, I did not want to wake you up this early. You must have been tired from all that travelling yesterday.”

 

“It’s fine, I usually get up around this time. Is anyone visiting?”

 

“Oh, no it’s just for you. I thought you might want to use the library for studying, nobody ever goes in there anymore and now you can use it.”

 

“Thank you, mother. But I do not really need you to move anything around. I’m sure it’ll be just fine how it is.”

 

“Oh nonsense! It’s no bother Harry. Oh you must eat something, here let me get you—“

 

“It’s alright, mum. You should finish up what you were doing, I can get it myself.”

 

“I can do it, Harry. You just need to sit down.”

 

“Mum, it’s okay. I am not tired anymore and I do not need to be served all the time. You need not worry about it. I will go find something.”

 

She smiles up at him before turning around to Ms. Baker and talking about the fireplace being cleaned out. 

 

He weaves through the lobby and the dozen maids in there to make his way to the kitchen. The smell of freshly baked bread greets him before he even enters. 

 

Louis is standing next to the counter in the corner with a teacup in his hand and a plate of toast close to his arm. He looks up when he hears Harry’s footsteps and a scowl finds its way onto his features before he silently looks away and puts the cup to his lips.

 

Harry can not help but feel irritated at being dismissed so easily by the boy. And what is he even doing here anyway. 

 

“I wasn’t aware the stable has been moved to the kitchen.”

 

“Do you usually go to the stable for breakfast?”

 

He has to clench his jaw to stop himself for saying something indecent. This boy just makes him want to curse and swear every time he sees him but his mother would have his head if she ever heard him.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“With a tea cup in my hand? Knitting a shawl.”

 

“What are you doing in the kitchen, I mean.”

 

“I was drinking my tea before you rudely interrupted.”

 

“You shouldn’t be inside the house. Much less in the kitchen ‘drinking your tea.’”

 

“I am almost finished and I am going to pretend I didn’t just hear that.”

 

“Why? You are being paid to work in the stable so you should be working in the stable. Not drinking tea inside the house.”

 

He knows he could be a bit more sensitive with what he wants to say but something about this boy makes him want to be rude and as hurtful as he can be. There’s this frustration he feels every time he sees Louis and the only way he knows to deal with it is with biting words.

 

Louis picks up his plate and walks out the back door before Harry can say another word. He is left standing in the kitchen feeling satisfied and yet helpless at what he has just done. He ignores the slight bit of discomfort in favour of eating breakfast.

 

***

 

Louis had woken up on his own today thanks to the chickens clucking loudly from the pen. When he had made his way to the kitchen after a long bath, he found everyone inside the house milling about and cleaning up rather piously. 

 

When he asked Ms. Baker about it she had smiled at him warmly and told her ‘Mrs. Styles wanted to clean up the library and move some furniture in there to get it ready for Master Styles.’

 

He had involuntarily wrinkled his nose at the mention of ‘Master Styles’ and it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

 

“Do you not like him?”

 

“What?”

 

“Your face is all sour. Did you have an unpleasant meet with him?”

 

“I would say so. He is so, so vain. So much pride. I wish he was more like Ms. Gemma. She is handsome and really sharp too but she doesn’t go around treating people with disdain.”

 

“You just have to know him better, Louis. Harry is not vain, he just knows he is eligible. It takes him a while to warm up to people. Give him some time.”

 

“I’m sorry to say Ms. Baker, but I really do not care for him. Everyone else has been so nice to me, I don’t have to know him. How often would I run into him, anyway.”

 

“He is the master of the house, Louis. You should try to be considerate of him. Be a little polite, and try not to be very sarcastic.”

 

“Sure.”

 

He had tried to forget about the boy and the bitter taste it left in his mouth when he was mentioned. And he was just peacefully sipping on his tea in silence when the person in question had stumbled in and like usual the first words out of his mouth were insulting.

 

Louis thought back to Ms. Baker’s words and tried to bite his tongue but something about the boy’s smug face had made him respond in kind. As much as he despised the person, he could appreciate that he was quite snarky like himself. 

 

And then he went and openly put Louis down for being poor as if he had any say in the matter, and the way he said it was so demeaning that Louis couldn’t stand there for another minute in his company. He felt sick at the way the younger boy was looking down at him. 

 

There was a peculiar expression on his face that to Louis screamed vain so he dumped his plate and walked out of the kitchen.

 

And that is why he is in the stable right now angrily feeding Jasper and telling him what a tosser the ‘master of the house is’.

 

“He went to Birmingham, oh bite me. Good for him. But does that give him the right to go around and insult people because they weren’t born with a silver spoon in their mouth? I just want to hit him in the face and wipe that arrogant look off it.”

 

Gemma finds him an hour later still muttering to himself. She startles him by tapping on his shoulder from behind while he’s still mumbling and he jumps a foot in the air and dropping the hay he was holding.

 

“Why are you muttering under your breath like an old lady?”

 

“You scared me! I didn’t even hear you coming in.”

 

“I know, I was quiet.”

 

“What are you doing here now?”

 

“Oh I was thinking of going for a ride. It’s nice out today. What were you mumbling?”

 

“You don’t need to know.”

 

“Oh, but I do.”

 

“Gemma, stop.”

 

She has a notorious look on her face before she holds her hands out in front of her and advances toward him. His eyes widen at the sudden realization of what is about to happen and he tries to back away before his back hits the wall. She is now laughing and walking toward him faster.

 

“Gemma, no. Please, I will tell you.”

 

“Too late.” 

 

She says before cornering him and tickling him mercilessly until he is on the floor crying for help. She gets off of him eventually but he has got tears in his eyes and she is laughing with her head thrown back. 

 

He is actually surprised that no one heard him crying out because he was so loud that his throat is scratchy. He wipes his eyes and looks over at Gemma who is sitting next to him with mud on her dress and still laughing.

 

He thinks about how young and carefree she looks right now. Usually she has to be proper and well mannered and she looks like she carries the weight of the world on her shoulders. She looks like a lady.

 

But when she is alone with him, she shows him a side of herself that reminds him of his sisters. They are playful with each other and call each other names, she had actually asked him to call her Gemma just so they do not feel like they are bound by the social customes that require him to bow down to her and never be alone with her in a room.

 

He still remembers the first time she had come to the stable late in the day and asked him if she could talk. He had been so scared that he had done something wrong. But she had just sat him down and asked him if he could be her friend.

 

‘My brother is gone and you are just a little bit older than him and you remind me of him. Will you be my brother?’

 

And he had seen Lottie’s face in hers for a moment before nodding his head.

 

And that is how he had started calling her Gemma and how they had grown close enough that she comes to the stable just to sit with him for hours and talk or tickle him whenever she please just for her entertainment. And he doesn’t mind one bit.

 

“That’s not very lady-like.”

 

“Oh god, not you too. Louis, please stop talking like that.”

 

“Is everything alright? Why do you sound so—“

 

“Because Birmingham has turned my brother into an arrogant snob.”

 

He laughs out loud at her confession and he can’t stop until he catches her looking at him with a curious face.

 

“Why are you laughing so hard? You don’t even know him that well.”

 

“I think I know him enough.”

 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

 

“Nothing. Now do you want me to come along or are you going alone?”

 

She is still looking at him with narrowed eyes but after a moment of silence gets up and offers her hand to him. 

 

“I was thinking of going to the forest for a bit.”

 

“Gemma, I’ve told you before. You could get lost in there. Do you not remember the last time?”

 

“That was so long ago and I have gotten better at riding now.”

 

“It is still dangerous, even I don’t go there unless I have to.”

 

“Alright, so then you can come with me.”

 

“Are you going to be adamant about this?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Alright, let us go then.”

 

She smiles widely and runs over to Jasper. Well, looks like he Is going to spend most of his day horse riding through the forest with Gemma. 

 

***

 

He has been in his room the whole day doing nothing and it Is not even noon yet. Harry does not like being idle for this long. After trying to read for about an hour he gives up and goes to find Gemma. 

 

When he cannot find her anywhere, he thinks of asking his mother but it is a right quest to find her too. Finally, he sees her outside the house with a basket in her hand. Maybe she and Gemma had gone into town then.

 

“Mum, did you go to town?”

 

“No, I was at the Browns’. But I do have some goods I need from the shops. I was going now, there might be a letter from your father too.”

 

“Oh, did Gemma go with you?”

 

“No, I went by myself.”

 

“Do you know where Gemma is? I can’t seem to find her anywhere.”

 

“Oh, she has gone riding with Louis. He went with her because the last time she went to the forest alone she—“

 

“He went with Gemma? Alone?”

 

“They are not alone if they go together, Harry.”

 

“Mother, I mean you sent him with Gemma?”

 

“Well, he knows his way around the forest and he was the one that saved her the last time. He wouldn’t let her go alone, I think it is really nice of him to go with her.”

 

“Mum, I have been meaning to talk to you about him. He is a servant but he seems to come and go rather freely, even inside the house. This morning I saw him in the kitchen like he was invited—“

 

“He is invited freely. I don’t—“

 

“He is a servant, mother. And he shouldn’t be—“

 

“Harry. I told you this yesterday too, he is working for us but we trust him and we treat him like he is a part of the family. He—“

 

“Why?”

 

“What has gotten into you? He is a good boy and he is away from his family. Your father and I are quite fond of him, Mr. Styles actually offered him a room in the house but he declined. So, I do not need you to tell me—“

 

“You trust him enough to send him alone with Gemma? She is of marriageable age now and he is a man—“

 

“Harry. I do not wish to have this discussion with you. I have made it quite clear that your father and I explicitly trust Louis even with Gemma. If you want, you can discuss this with your father upon his return. And I would appreciate it if you could be kind with Louis until then. I am not feeling very well now. I would like it if you could go to see if your father has sent a letter.”

 

He watches his mother walk away from him with a disappointed look on her face and he is left standing there wondering what he did wrong. He is just worried about his sister who seems a bit too enamoured with the hired help.

 

Actually come to think of it, everybody around here is a bit too enamoured with the help. His mother seems to think Louis can do no wrong. His sister – who called him a snob just yesterday – is going away horseback riding through the forest with him. Just what has he done to everyone around here?

 

But Harry sees him for what he is, a person who works at the Estate and is getting paid for it. And he is all for being nice to everyone and treating everyone kindly but something about Louis unsettles him. 

 

And it is not even a question of personal preference; it is just a matter of how things work. Gemma and his parents should not be freely mingling with the help. It is just how society works.

 

Thinking all of this, he makes his way to the town and when he gets to collect the post, he is told there is a letter for Mrs. Styles and one for him. Ignoring all the curious looks he gets from the ladies and the gentlemen equally, he starts to walk back to Longbourn. 

 

On his way, he opens the letter addressed to him and finds it written by Niall telling him the boys want to visit this week. He smiles when he reads the almost illegible scribble of his friend telling him all about how they all miss him and want to see him as soon as possible. 

 

He rushes off to his room to write a response telling Niall to get the boys and come to Longbourn as soon as they can. Just as he is making his way to the main gate, he sees Gemma and Louis leading their horses back and laughing about something. 

 

He stops walking and waits for them to approach, Louis is talking about something while moving his hands around and Gemma looks like she is hanging on to every word out of his mouth and then they both laugh again. Harry feels himself clenching his hand involuntarily as a spike of something unpleasant flares through him but he pushes it down and smiles at Gemma when they approach.

 

“How was your ride?”

 

“Oh it was fun, Louis here knows all the good spots. I am famished now, though. Louis, can you tie up Jasper for me and then come to the kitchen. I’ll get Ms. Baker to fix us something to eat.”

 

“Sure thing, Ms. Gemma.”

 

Gemma hands the reins to Louis but snorts when she hears him say Ms. Gemma. Harry looks on curiously but when she catches the look on his face, she stops abruptly. 

 

Just as he’s about to ask her why, she starts walking toward the house. It is just on the tip of his tongue to ask her but then something catches his eye. There is dirt on her dress and there’s a straw stuck in the lace that stops his words on his tongue. Why would she have hay and dirt on her dress?

 

When he turns around, Louis is no longer standing there and Harry is furious as he makes his way to the stable.

 

***

 

Today has been so nice, Gemma and he rode deep into the forest and he showed her the lake with the promise that she would not try to go there alone. It had been nice to just relax during the day and talk freely with her rather than be on his best behaviour like he would have to be at the house.

 

And then ofcourse he had to see Harry. 

 

He was waiting at the gate when they got home and just looking at his face, Louis could feel the happiness from the day slipping away. He tries to forget about him as he is tying up Jasper but then he hears footsteps behind him and he prays it is Gemma again come to torment him but no luck.

 

“Louis, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I haven’t been very nice to you or you to me. But I think we should try to be more polite.”

 

He turns around and looks at him silently as Harry is making a show of being a perfect gentleman. Louis can tell it is a show because his eye is twitching while he says all this and Louis knows all about twitching eyes and pretending to be polite.

 

“Right. Well, I have only been impolite because you insult me in every conversation we have had.”

 

“And I am going to stop. But you have to concede that there are some boundaries, some limits that should not be crossed. I know my parents trust you and Gemma is fond of you but you have to know that she is a lady of marriageable age and you are a man and so there needs to be a certain decorum with how you two interact.”

 

“I am sorry, are you suggesting that—“

 

“I am not suggesting anything, I am merely pointing out that the manner in which you interact could be misconstrued by society.”

 

Louis pushes down on the sudden surge of anger that he feels blooming in his chest. 

 

“Are you suggesting that I have in any way disrespected Ms. Gemma? Or that—“

 

“What are your intentions with her? Are you involved with my sister?”

 

He can feel himself drown in anger at the expression he sees on Harry’s face and the question he has just been asked. Gemma is like Lottie to him, he loves her like a sister and this bastard has the nerve to stand here and question his motives. 

 

His jaw is clenched, so are his fists as he very timidly asks,

 

“What gave you that impression? Because I have been nothing but courteous and respectful toward Ms. Gemma.”

 

He sees Harry change his stance and with a somewhat determined look on his face ask him the most hurtful question he has ever been asked in his lifetime.

 

“Then why was there mud on her dress? Did something inappropriate happen while you were gone from the house? Because I might tolerate you in the kitchen but I will certainly not tolerate any untoward behavior toward my sister from you—“

 

He doesn’t know when he moved but he finds himself attacking the younger boy with his shoulders squared as they connect with his torso and the next thing he hears is a grunt. He does not see where he is hitting or how strongly, he is just blindly landing blows and kicking while being hit in return. 

 

It is all a mess of limbs, his back hits the floor at some point and he has got a heavy weight on him as Harry straddles his waist and pulls on his shirt while Louis writhes around and finally gets back on top. He can hear rugged breathing near his ear and heated skin under his hands as he pushes and pulls. At some point they end up on hay and he can feel wetness soaking his trousers from the wet mud on the floor. Harry looks flustered under him and he has hay in his curly but the tussle continues even as Louis becomes distinctly aware of how close he is to Harry and how his hair smells of the ocean.

 

It is all a haze of laboured breathing and warm skin, they’ve been at it for a while - both of them wanting to best the other and ending up on top despite the decided intimacy of this. But they do not stop until they hear a loud shriek from the stable door and then they freeze where they are. 

 

Louis straddling Harry’s frail waist with his hand around his neck and the other one in his hair. Harry on the floor and his fingers digging into Louis’ waist as they bunch up the shirt there. They are both panting from the struggle and they are stunned looking at Gemma who is equally stunned and silently looking back. 

 

Then she clears her throat and it is as if a trance has been broken. Louis lofts himself up and away from Harry, who stands up and rights his clothes. Louis can see that Harry’s shirt is ruffled and out of his trousers. His hair looks wild with hay in them and there is a streak of mud on his face. He almost lifts his hand to clean it before he realizes what he is doing and sharply looks away.

 

“What were you two doing? What is going on here?”

 

“He attacked me. Hit me right in the torso with his bony shoulders and then proceeded to hit me—“

 

“And you just lay there pliant?”

 

He looks over angrily at the boy whose cheeks colour brightly at the words uttered by him. He doesn’t have time to ponder this as Gemma cuts his thoughts short.

 

“Louis! Why did you—“

 

“He asked me if something inappropriate happened when we were in the forest.”

 

Gemma gapes at her brother wordlessly and Louis chances a glance to find Harry already looking at him. He looks away immediately before he can think why.

 

“He came in here asking me what were my intentions toward you and if we are involved.”

 

“Harry! I can’t believe you would think that. Whatever gave you—“

 

“You went away to an unknown place with the stable boy.”

 

“Stop calling him that.”

 

“That’s what he is.”

 

“I do not know even you. Who are you? You are not my brother, he would never say that.”

 

“Say what? He is a stable boy. And you should not be going alone—“

 

“That is my business and none of your concern.”

 

“Gemma, I am just—“

 

“Harry. I do not wish to have this conversation with you. If you want to continue speaking to me, do not even bring this up again.”

 

“Fine.”

 

“And don’t talk to Louis if you cannot be courteous enough.”

 

“What about him? He can just attack me whenever he wants?”

 

“Louis, are you going to keep attacking my brother?”

 

“I’d rather kill myself before having another interaction with him at all.”

 

He answers crisply while looking at the man in question. Harry looks back at him with a clenched jaw and Louis feels this sudden urge to touch it. He is jolted at the realization and turns sharply toward Gemma.

 

“Good. You can both go without fighting now.”

 

She walks out of the stable and he is left alone with Harry. 

 

He feels being watched, but he does not take his eyes off the ground. When it has been a while, he looks up and finds sharp green eyes looking at him. It was not this tense in here before.

 

“I have four sisters at home. I don’t know why I am telling you this but I would never allow anyone to hurt or disrespect Ms. Gemma in any way.”

 

He walks out of the stable before he can hear what Harry has to say.

 

***

 

He stands in the empty stable looking at the door where Louis has just walked a moment ago. He thinks about what he has been told. He might not be very fond of the boy but even he could tell that there was no word of lie in what he just told Harry.

 

He still does not understand the wave of hotness he felt on his cheeks and all the way down when Louis had stopped moving above him and Gemma was standing at the door. He wants to deny the warmth he can feel on his neck right now but it’s there. 

 

So, there is more to the stable boy than biting comments and the scowl that covers his features whenever Harry is is around.

 

He stops himself from thinking that the boy is actually beautiful, his eyes even more piercing from up close and his thin lips inviting.

 

He stops himself from thinking any of this and instead walks out of the stable to go post the letter to Niall.

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare to be hurt by the awesomeness: http://24.media.tumblr.com/83b08a4be745caea40eff2c99826f0a5/tumblr_mnnce1jcgb1qzbrhso2_500.jpg
> 
> http://25.media.tumblr.com/aa86f743cbed5dce89637f42bfe36f3b/tumblr_mnnce1jcgb1qzbrhso1_500.jpg
> 
> *Louis looks less like this and more like a stable boy but you get the point!
> 
> So? I realized that this story hasn't gotten the kind of response my earlier stories has but then I figured that Victorian Louis Tomlinson isn't everyone's cup of tea which baffles me but it's true. But comments are encouraged actually they are needed. Compulsory. You must leave on. YOU MUST.


	3. Why can't I look away?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so huge thanks to everyone who read and/or commented. I have most of this written down and I'll be uploading more regularly now. There is a name in here that I had to change a bit to fit the time and it sounds stupid, but I asked Hannah to give me a variation and she said this one was fine. You'll know which name I mean and if you find it weird as well, blame Hannah.
> 
> Update: I am going back to change that Harry is actually turning 20 and in a fortnight and not a month.

Hours turn into days and days bleed into weeks as Harry tries to get himself used to the sleepy life at Longbourn. He is aware that this is so different than being here before he went away. There is nothing to do all day so he has taken to reading in the library and walking around aimlessly for the most part. He stays away from the stable, though.

 

As he learns to live here again, he realizes that this not the place he left behind. Mr. Styles is still in London, he had said he would be there on business for a fortnight. So it’s just been him and Mum and Gemma there for now. 

 

Niall and the lads are coming soon and Harry really looks forward to it, because as much as he likes being back, he feels their absence and the slow-paced life here in Derbyshire is taking more than a little to get used to.

 

And Louis. Louis, who has become etched in the lives of people at Longbourn in such a way that Harry fails to comprehend. Over the last couple days, he has caught himself thinking about the boy and what he had said to Harry in the stable that day. He can hear his high voice and that lilt that accentuated his accent. He may have heard that voice over and over in his head when he was alone. And he may have made himself believe that accent was more pronounced than it was, his mind has been playing tricks on him lately.

 

Sometimes when he lies in bed unable to sleep he sees piercing blue eyes but he refuses to think anything of it.

 

Things go about as usual, the people in the house get used to him being around. The maids have now stopped stuttering when he asks them something. His mother has almost stopped cooing over him and kissing his temple at random moments. He spends his days relaxing and telling himself he does not need challenges and tough decisions to feel alive. He doesn’t wander off toward the stable alone and Louis doesn’t stay in the same room with him unless there is someone else around. They are slowly learning to exist in the same space. Harry has spoken but two words to him in the past week and Louis doesn’t say anything to him in response either. 

 

He does look at Louis across the room many a time though, and sometimes he catches clear blue eyes looking back. And it feels like fire when he does. Stolen glances and caught gazes aside, they don’t interact much. Harry finds himself listening when Louis is talking with Gemma or his mum, hanging on his every word and deciphering that accent but he doesn’t participate in the conversations. Sometimes when their eyes meet, the gazes linger and the heat under his palms gets too much and he is forced to look way.

 

But life goes on at Longbourn. As it did the past three years, while he was gone. But Louis was here.

 

He realizes with a start that there have been incidents in the past year that he was not here to witness but his mother and Gemma shared them with Louis. That there are conversations among them that he is perhaps not welcome to. And he realizes this one night at the dinner table when Gemma is talking about a ball from last year.

 

“-she is most definitely very fond of you.”

 

“I really do not think that—“

 

“She asked me if you were involved with anyone. Which I think was her way of asking if you and I were involved.”

 

He has been listening silently, of course he knows what the conversation is about. But he doesn’t feel as indifferent to it as he did a moment ago.

 

“I think you are reading this wrong, she does not—“

 

“Mum, what do you think?”

 

“Who are you talking about, my dear?”

 

“Mrs. Calder’s niece from out of town, Ms. Eleanor. Remember her?”

 

“Oh I think I do, she was very pretty.”

 

“But do you think she fancied our Louis here?”

 

“I think she did too, I remember Ms. Bingley saying something about it.”

 

He feels something itch, it is uncomfortable but he cannot for the life of him place what it is.

 

“Well, I think you both have it wrong. Ms. Eleanor was just—“

 

“Why don’t you invite her to the ball then? That way we can see who is right about her.”

 

“What ball?”

 

“The ball here at Longbourn for Harry—“

 

“Oh hush, Gemma. It was going to be a surprise for Harry. Now you’ve gone and…”

 

“Oh, I am so sorry, Mum. I absolutely forgot about it.”

 

Harry is left looking helplessly between his mother and Gemma waiting for someone to explain. The itch is still there.

 

“Harry, I thought we should have a ball to celebrate you turning twenty and your coming home. Your father wrote to me this morning saying he will be back the day of your birthday and your friends can be here too.”

 

He smiles back out of genuine politeness more than anything when his mum looks at him with a warm face. He is not really fond of balls but if they want to celebrate then who is he to interrupt.

 

“And you can find someone nice, maybe.”

 

Again, he smiles at his mother and thinks about how a ball would be the last place he will ever find anyone.

 

They get up from the table after dinner and Harry is walking toward the door to go get Ms. Baker when he hears Gemma start talking again and the words make him stop in his tracks.

 

“Louis, you should invite Ms. Eleanor. Then you can see that she really is quite fond of you.”

 

He turns around in time to hear Louis’ response but his eyes are fixed on the ground this time even when he hears the boy talk. He is trying to suppress the uncomfortable tug in his stomach as he ponders Gemma’s words.

 

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

 

And that’s all he says timidly before bidding goodnight and starting to walk toward the door.

 

Harry looks up and takes a deep breath, just as Louis gets close to him he says with a firm tone,

 

“You should come.”

 

Louis does not greet this with a response and silently walks out of the door. Harry doesn’t fall asleep till very late that night.

 

***

 

It has been a peaceful few days, he thinks as he moves his head to lay it more comfortably in the hay. He has been finishing his chores and then lying about and reading all day. And the occasional evening ride with Gemma.

 

Mr. Styles is not back from London yet so he doesn’t even have to prepare the carriage in the mornings. Things have returned to normal after the first few days of excitement about the return of the Perfect Son, Louis thinks to himself.

 

He is still unsure what he thinks of Harry Styles. 

 

The boy is somewhat of a mystery, Louis can concede. He still hates him on the grounds that he is vain, proud and assuming. The first few interactions they had had made that much clear. The way that he looked down on people less fortunate than him made Louis want to hit him. 

 

Just because someone did not have the same privileges as him thanks to an accident of birth, did not give him the right to look down on them. Proud, was the one word that came to mind when he thought of Harry Styles.

 

But that was last week. Since then things have changed. He is not sure how, but they have. 

 

The two of them haven’t spoken a word to one another, neither have they been in the same room alone, he has made sure of that. He has also tried to not go to the kitchen when he knows Harry might be around.

 

But other than that, he has gone on with life like usual.

 

Maybe Ms. Baker was right, he has thought to himself on some nights. That Harry is really just confident and not vain. Maybe it is simply a matter of him warming up to people in a while. 

 

And as much as he has tried not to think of the boy and go about life as usual, he hasn’t been able to completely ignore him. Sometimes he finds himself carding his fingers through his hair and getting irritated because it’s not curly. He stops himself right then though and snatches his fingers away.

 

When he is around, Louis feels a sort of tension bleeding through him. He feels eyes on him constantly and sometimes when he looks up and finds Harry looking at him, he feels himself compelled to hold the stare. 

 

It is a stare, he knows. There have been times when they have looked at each other and held the gaze while other people have kept conversations around them. It baffles him when he thinks about it, the younger boy looks at him with such intensity sometimes. 

 

Louis doesn’t know what to think of these unspoken steady looks. He dreams of intense green eyes some nights. But during the day, he doesn’t allow himself to dwell on it. That is, until he catches them looking at him.

 

***

 

A pillow hitting him in the face startles him and he sits up in his bed looking around at the source of the disturbance to find a very cheery Niall looking down at him from where he is holding another pillow in his hand and standing next to his bed. It takes him a moment to realize that this is not his room in Birmingham even though this is his roommate.

 

“Good morning, Hazza.”

 

Niall is grinning down at him and as much as he is irritated at being awakened so rudely, Niall’s grin has always been infectious and he cannot help but grin back.

 

“When did you get here? And where are the others?”

 

“We got here an hour ago. Zayn and Liam are downstairs talking with your mother and sister. I lied that I was going to the kitchen and came up here to wake you up.”

 

And he looks down at him with such a bright smile that Harry cannot complain about being disturbed. He just pushes the sheets aside and gets to his feet. Niall follows him like a dog and stands there looking expectantly.

 

“Yes, Niall?”

 

“What are you going to do now?”

 

“I was going to take a bath. Do you wish to join me?”

 

“As much as I would like to, Harry I think I am going to go down to enjoy your sister’s company.”

 

And just the way his eyes shine when he says this has Harry looking at him and wondering about his intentions. Niall does not notice though, of course. He just waves to him and makes his way out the door leaving Harry alone with his thoughts of piercing blue eyes.

 

***

 

When he finally makes his way downstairs, he sees Liam and Zayn talking politely to his mother while Niall and Gemma are nowhere to be seen. 

 

“Harry! There you are. It is so good to see you.”

 

Liam stands up to offer him a firm handshake while Zayn just pulls him into a hug and murmurs, “Hazza”.

 

“Hazza?” His mother is looking questioningly between him and Zayn who smiles at her.

 

“Liam came up with that name for Harry.”

 

Before his mum can say anything more about that a loud crash from the kitchen takes all of their attention away. Harry rushes in as does Gemma from somewhere to find Louis standing in the corner looking down at a bowl and spilt milk. He looks up sharply at the people standing in the kitchen now and winces.

 

“Louis, what happened?”

 

He smiles at Gemma apologetically before taking a step back and bringing his hands up in a defensive stance.

 

“Tell me you did not—“

 

“She was hungry, Gemma. I promise I didn’t—“

 

“I told you not to do it again and you—“

 

“It wasn’t like that, I just saw her—“

 

“Would somebody please tell me what is going on here? And why is there spilt milk on the floor?”

 

Mum asks sternly at which Gemma and Louis both have the decency to look down at the ground ashamedly before talking over each other.

 

“Louis keeps feeding the wild cat and she keeps coming back. I have told him so many times to stop. The cat scares Jasper but he wouldn’t stop.”

 

“I was just taking the bowl down to the stable, I was going to make some tea later but the shelf was too high and I dropped the bowl.”

 

They both stop and look at each other with narrowed eyes and Harry can tell that they are having a silent conversation and it annoys him.

 

“Louis? Is it true about the cat?”

 

His cheeks turn a bashful shade of red and Harry involuntarily clenches his fist and he doesn’t need to know why, thank you very much.

 

“Yes, Mrs. Styles.”

 

“Why are you feeding a wild cat?”

 

“She was hungry and she looks really frail. I couldn’t just—“

 

“Yes, you could. Your precious little cat scares Jasper.”

 

“No, she doesn’t—“

 

“Yes, she does—“

 

Mum clears her throat and raises her eyebrows at both of them when they finally stop arguing. Nobody in the room moves for a moment and then Gemma hurries to pick up the bowl and Louis gets the mop to clean it up. Harry sees his mother shaking her head and smiling before walking out of the kitchen.

 

The boys follow her with confused looks on their faces. Harry turns back around to find Louis and Gemma whispering to each other without giving him any thought.

 

He almost asks them what they are whispering about. But then he stops himself and exits silently. The one question in his mind remains, why are Louis and Gemma so close?

 

Did they lie to him about being involved? Or is the nature of their relationship something entirely different?

 

He wants to ask Gemma but he knows he can’t without raising concerns in her mind as to why he wants to know. But that’s not what stops him from asking. It’s the knowledge that he doesn’t want her to confirm his suspicions.

 

He couldn’t bear to hear her say that Louis and she are involved. He doesn’t know why.

 

But he couldn’t.

 

***

 

They have been sitting in the drawing room talking about school and life in the past three years as Gemma and his mum take turns asking questions. It hasn’t been long since the boys got here and Zayn brings up cards and says he feels like playing a hand. Harry gets up to bring the cards from the library and Zayn stands up saying he will walk with Harry. 

 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to come with me.”

 

“It’s alright, I’d rather.”

 

Zayn has a pinched expression on his face as he follows Harry out of the room. His curiosity gets the better of him as they step out into the hall.

 

“Zayn, why do you look so worried? Is everything alright?” 

 

“Not really. Look, when we were coming from the school we ran into—“

 

His words are cut short when Harry is startled by someone stepping in his way and he looks up see Ms. Taylor Swiftly looking straight at him. She is smiling expectantly at him and he can do nothing but smile back and offer a weak greeting while the only thought on his mind is what is she doing in his home.

 

Zayn answers that question when he comes to stand by him on his other side with the same pinched expression on his face. 

 

“We were just about to leave for here when Ms. Swiftly here found us and asked after you. When we told her we were coming to visit you, she offered to come along.”

 

Zayn says offered but his eyes say ‘we could not stop her’ and Harry knows all about being stuck with Ms. Swiftly. She has an unusual flair for finding him when he does not want to be found. You could say she has a bit of a fascination with him and he sure does not appreciate her in that way.

 

Even in Birmingham there were many a time when he had to ask for favours from the boys just to avoid having to spend time with her. She is a nice person but Harry just cannot give her what she wants. Which she has made clear in so many words. She wants a proposal from him and she takes his lack of a partner as a sign that he is interested.

 

It is only the etiquette his mother has raised him with that stops him from turning her down bluntly. But never in his wildest thoughts would he have fathomed that she would show up in his house like this.

 

Zayn is looking at him apologetically while she smiles and starts walking toward him. Harry has half a mind to walk away but that’s not how his mother raised him so he stands his ground and accepts it when she loops her arm through his and starts walking to the drawing room where everyone else is.

 

“Harry, I was just telling Mr. Horan about that time when you—“

 

Gemma stops mid-sentence when she spots the lady next to him and looks at him questioningly. 

 

He hears his mother’s voice reach his ears before he sees her on the sofa because he is too busy looking at Gemma and trying to come up with a plausible explanation as to why a lady has shown up at the house for him.

 

“Harry, who is the beautiful young lady? And why didn’t you tell us there was to be lady coming as well?”

 

“Mum, this is Ms. Taylor Swiftly from Birmingham. The lads and I met Ms. Swiftly at a Regency ball last year. Zayn tells me that Ms. Swiftly ran into them when they were leaving for here and she offered to come along.”

 

“Oh, well I shall get Ms. Baker to make some tea and get us all something to eat. And I will see if Louis would go into town to get some fresh bread.”

 

She walks out of the room with a pointed look thrown his way but before he could respond Ms. Swiftly starts to walk and tugs him along to the sofa. Gemma is looking at him with raised eyebrows and surprise and curiosity etched clearly in her features.

 

He walks over to sit beside her and it is not a surprise that Ms. Swiftly follows him to sit beside him. Gemma is looking at him with curious eyes and he can only look back. Just as he is about to delve into conversation, the door to the room swings open and in walks Louis with a young, fair lady and Mrs. Styles in tow.

 

Gemma stands up from beside him and walks over to stand beside Louis. If Harry didn’t know better, he’d think she was being protective of Louis and hence standing in between him and the lady. Either that or she is acting like an engaged lady would. And Harry would not like to entertain that thought anymore, thanks.

 

“Louis! I was going to come find you in a while. Ms. Eleanor, you look well.”

 

Harry’s hand clenches around the sofa and he forces his eyes to the ground when he recognizes the name. Try as he might, he cannot deny the anger that flares through him at the realization and the possible implications of this person ending up here with Louis.

 

“You do look well too, Ms. Styles. How have you been?”

 

“I have been grand, thank you. Tell me, has Louis told you about the ball yet?”

 

Harry is forced to look up at that and he finds Gemma curiously watching him. He looks away sharply but like it has been the case recently, his eyes gravitate toward familiar blue ones. Louis is already looking at him. He doesn’t know how this has come to be but he feels the warmth crawl up his skin as the gaze lingers while conversation around them continues, oblivious.

 

“Ball?”

 

He hears Ms. Swiftly next to him ask but he can’t tear his eyes away. Ms. Calder asks the same question of Gemma and Harry can’t help the flash of anger that he is certain must show on his face because Louis’ eyes widen for a moment before he looks away.

 

He can only turn away from him when Louis does, he finds Gemma still looking at him with her head tilted as if she is calculating something. Harry does not get to think too much of it before Gemma seems to snap out of it and answers the ladies.

 

“Yes, we are having a ball here at Longbourn to celebrate Harry returning home. And he is turning twenty. You are invited, Ms. Calder. I told Louis to ask you but I think he forgot.”

 

Harry doesn’t dare look up. He silently waits for someone to speak.

 

“Oh of course, I would be delighted to come.”

 

He sits with his eyes on the floor as everyone talks cheerfully about the ball. They all seem happy and he hears everyone talking about how much fun it will be to dance at the ball. He hears all their voices but one.

 

Louis hasn’t said anything the whole time. 

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, anything I did wrong in this chapter? Anything I did right? 
> 
> Also, this is how I see Louis in my head during all of this plus some wrinkles and dirt on clothes thanks to alleged mud fights and stable work: https://31.media.tumblr.com/c3ce85e3305d304a4405617a2284567d/tumblr_n1gqencdrN1rdi4vao4_500.jpg
> 
> And Harry along the lines of this, but more Victorian: https://24.media.tumblr.com/08000b761e6670d3190fc052997818c9/tumblr_n19ry8RYOT1rxkzk5o1_250.gif
> 
> Yeah, I don't know what I'm doing.


	4. Will you come if I ask?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've discovered that as beautiful as glaring/smouldering is in Victorian-themed tv shows/movies, it is hard to portray in the written form. I mean it's an endless journey of every second sentence being 'He glared, he stared, he smouldered' but I'm writing it anyway because I promised you glaring and I will give you glaring! But note to self: Do not attempt to write anymore Victorian AUs.

The dinner table is completely occupied with Harry’s friends from Birmingham and Mrs. Styles had insisted that he show up for dinner tonight so he could meet everyone better than the two minutes he had seen them for earlier when Ms. Eleanor had shown up.

 

Louis is not sure how he feels about the ball, he is not a big fan of dancing. Plus it would be such a hassle to get dressed up but he also knows that Gemma will force him to go if he resists.

 

As he looks around the table, he finds four fresh-faced boys dressed to the nines. They are Harry’s friends, he does not want to judge but he remembers how Harry was when he first came and Louis would not be surprised if these boys talked down to him as well. 

 

He is surprised when the Irish one comes and sits next to him while Gemma takes his other side. Louis looks at the pale boy who looks back and smiles.

 

“I am Niall Horan, you could just call me Niall if you want.”

 

Louis offers his hand and his name while curiously watching the boy. He just smiles back.

 

“Ms. Gemma has told me a bit about you, said you were a proper gentleman. I could always learn some things from you about being a gentleman.”

 

Louis is sitting there with a slack jaw because who is this person looking at him with such admiration. Even though he is the one in the fancy clothes and with a proper education. But Louis is not going to let his prejudice stand in the way, so he smiles back.

 

Just as he is in the middle of sharing the story of how Gemma had got herself stuck in a tree and Niall has turned a sickly red next to him with his effort to not burst out laughing while Gemma herself is snickering at his version of events, Harry enters the room. The lady from the library has her arm looped around his and Louis does not care about any of this so he drinks his water because his throat is a bit scratchy from telling Niall all the funny stories he knows.

 

Harry sits down across from him and their eyes meet accidentally as he is leaning down. Louis looks away when he feels Niall’s hand on his arm asking him to keep going. Harry’s eyes glance at the contact and he turns away. They don’t look at each other again.

 

After everyone has been properly introduced, he finds that none of the guests are like he had expected. Mr. Payne seems to be very enamored with the house and Derbyshire in general, he also asks Louis a lot of questions about the horses they have. Mr. Malik however does not talk much, he remains quiet mostly and listens attentively.

 

Louis catches him watching Mr. Payne when he thinks no one is looking. And it is probably a trick of his eyes, but Louis sees Mr. Malik brush his hand against Mr. Payne’s when he is reaching for his napkin. He tries not to interfere in their private moment but he can’t help it that his eyes travel to their hands sometimes. 

 

And then he sees their hands brush a second time and Mr. Malik keeps his hand there. Louis feels a warmth crawling up his collar and when he looks up he finds Mr. Malik looking straight at him. His eyes are steady and his face straight as if asking Louis if he is going to say something, if he is bothered by it.

 

He simply nods his head a little and offers a twist of lips to assure him that he would never be opposed to love no matter what the gender of the person. Mr. Malik nods back and for the first time, he sees his face display any look other than indifference. He offers a small smile to Louis that he gratefully accepts with one of his own.

 

When he turns to sip at his wine, his eyes travel across the table and he finds Harry looking angrily at him. 

 

He does not understand what he has done to deserve the daggers that Harry is currently throwing at him. They have not even talked to each other in weeks and yet conversation between them has been ceaseless, with their eyes.

 

And right now, he doesn’t understand what he has done wrong. Gemma doesn’t either, for she is looking curiously between him and Harry with narrowed eyes. Louis lowers his head and continues to eat quietly. 

 

Niall starts talking to him again about what he studied at Birmingham. When the topic steers toward medical advances in London, Louis offers up that he has been talking to Dr. Carlyle about how the surgical field is being taken by storm by all the new advancements.  
Niall looks so impressed and pleased that Louis has to look away, it has been so long since someone looked at him with so much admiration. For a fleeting second, he is reminded of sisters looking at him like that but he throttles that thought.

 

The dinner was so much better than Louis had prepared himself for. All the boys were nice to him, more than that even. They all bid him goodnight politely while Niall had actually stepped forward and patted his back before grinning at him and walking away.

 

The room is almost empty and Louis is about to walk out when Harry’s rough voice stops him.

 

“Niall seems very fond of you.”

 

He hasn’t heard that voice directed at him and just him in so long. It feels different, like there is an undercurrent of irritation or anger or something.

 

“He seems to be very fond of Ms. Gemma too. Maybe she bribed him to be nice to me.”

 

Harry snorts and moves a step closer to him. 

 

“He was nice to you, was he?”

 

“Well, he didn’t bring up the fact that I am ‘the help’ sitting at the dinner table, so yes. He was nice.”

 

“He wouldn’t be lying though, if he did say that.”

 

Louis can’t help it that a dry laugh escapes him before he has a moment to think about it.

 

“Unbelievable.”

 

He starts to walk away but Harry’s hand shoots out and grips his arm. He feels a shudder run through him at the contact and he isn’t sure whether he jerked his arm back or if Harry pulled his own hand back. He is left cold after a moment of contact and he does not want to think about what any of it means.

 

“I didn’t, I mean I do not mean it as a disrespect when I say--”

 

“Okay, how would you like it if I kept bringing up the fact that you don’t know how to ride in every conversation? I mean I wouldn’t mean it as a disrespect but--”

 

“How do you know that?”

 

Harry has stepped really close to him and he can almost feel his breath on his cheek, but Louis is nothing if not confrontational. So he stands his ground even though he feels heat crawling up his neck under his collar.

 

“I observe, because I am not busy asserting my superiority on everything that moves and everyone who listens. So I have time to look around and see the world for what it is and not recite what some old man with a DSc. told me.”

 

He knows he has crossed a line, it is apparent in the way Harry is looking at him with his brows furrowed and smouldering eyes. But Louis thinks if he can dish it, then he can take it as well. 'Master of the house' be damned.

 

Harry is quiet next to him but his eyes are still burning through him and Louis looks up once but the emerald orbs are too close and trained so intensely on him that he looks away. 

 

“Is that what you think I do?”

 

“Isn’t it?”

 

He can see something turning, something changing in Harry. He turns his eyes away but doesn’t step back.

 

“I never meant to disrespect you, I was just--”

 

“It doesn’t matter.”

 

“I am still getting used to being here, Birmingham was different. This place, I thought I knew but I don’t.”

 

“I find, that when you move to an unfamiliar place it helps to let yourself go. To allow yourself to like the place and not feel guilty about it. Or hate it, for that matter.”

 

He doesn’t know why he has just said this, why he has shared a part of himself he hasn’t even let Gemma see. The part that wakes up every morning and thinks about his mother and his sisters, the part that thinks about Yorkshire and sometimes misses it too much.

 

Harry is quietly looking at him and the intensity in his eyes has been replaced with warmth, a curious expression on his face.

 

“Is that what you do?”

 

“Sometimes.”

 

He should stop. Why is he sharing this intimate side of himself with a stranger but he can’t stop when Harry is looking at him like he knows all the answers to all his questions.

 

“Do you miss your family? Do you ever think about going back?”

 

“You would like that, wouldn’t you? Me leaving here--”

 

“I would not.”

 

Harry has stepped even closer, his breath is now fanning his cheek. He is frozen on the spot with Harry so close and his warm breath tickling Louis’ skin, he is pinned to the floor. And Harry is looking down at him but he doesn’t dare lift his eyes. 

 

When he does though, Harry looks away sharply and Louis can see a dusting of bright red high up on his cheeks. Harry shuffles away and doesn’t look at Louis, he on the other hand can’t keep his eyes away from the boy he can only describe as flustered but what does he know.

 

He is startled by the door opening and Gemma loudly exclaiming that she has been looking for Harry everywhere. The boy in question clears his throat loudly and Louis sees him slipping into his usual confident self. It’s like watching someone pull on a mask, he is mesmerised.

 

“Oh, I didn’t know you were both here. Louis, what did you think of everyone?”

 

“I quite like Niall, if that is what you mean.”

 

She blushes a furious red and Louis thinks she doesn’t look that much different than her brother did just a moment ago. Harry is apparently thinking the same thing as he is because he looks over briefly and the redness is still there, Louis can’t help but smirk at the state of him. 

 

“That is not what I meant, no.”

 

Gemma’s timid voice pulls him away from the boy’s face.

 

“Right. Of course, you didn’t.”

 

“No, actually. I meant what did you think of Harry’s friends. They all seem nice. I am not too sure about Ms. Swiftly though.”

 

Louis tries to not but his fist clenches at the mention of her and he doesn’t even know why. It’s just that something about her bothers him. She has been glaring at him ever since he first saw her and he does not appreciate the unforgiving looks so pardon him for not being overly fond of her.

 

Gemma is looking curiously at him so his eyes wander over to Harry’s, who seems to be staring at his hand. Louis unclenches his hand and smiles at Gemma and hopes she would stop staring him like she is just now figuring something out about him. That cold, calculating look scares him so much. And Gemma can be absolutely terrifying when she wants to be.

 

“I have not had the pleasure of talking to her yet, so I wouldn’t really know.”

 

Gemma looks skeptical and sure enough she pushes on.

 

“But she has been very condescending in her tone. I do not really appreciate that.”

 

Well, he couldn’t argue with that, plus his snarky side bubbles up and he replies cheekily,

 

“Well, she is from Birmingham. So of course, she knows more than us and probably thinks herself superior.”

 

If he were a good person he would not feel a warm satisfaction at the way Harry’s head snaps up and his eyes bore into Louis’. But he never deluded himself into believing that, so yes it does satisfy him. The way Harry looks almost bashful is deeply satisfying and then he immediately turns away from the smirk playing on Louis’ lips.

 

“Maybe that is it. But she could learn from the rest of the people, no one else seems to think they are royalty. And you don’t have to lie, Louis. I saw her glaring at you during dinner. I mean I don’t know what she would have against you, but she seemed pretty intent on staring angrily at you.”

 

He knew it, he knew Gemma knows something. She always sees what other people overlook. And it is quite evident from the way Harry is snapping his head sharply to look at her and then looking questioningly at Louis, that he did not in fact catch any of the dirty looks Ms. Swiftly had been throwing his way all through dinner. Well, it just goes on to confirm Louis’ expectation about Harry being lost in his head most of the day and not actually knowing anything about what goes on around him.

 

“Yes well, I have not said one word to her nor her to me so the looks are lost on me. I wonder how I could possibly have offended her.”

 

He actually does have a clue. Ms. Swiftly seems to be besotted with Harry while the boy is almost blind to her advances. Louis has seen the look of discomfort flash across Harry’s face when she loops her arm around his or sits next to him. And Louis knows this because he has been looking. He has been more than looking at Harry.

 

He has been struggling to look away.

 

And Ms. Swiftly seems to have caught on and she is possibly holding it against him. 

 

Harry still looks baffled, Gemma looks a little too curious and that’s how Louis knows that she knows more than she is letting on. Especially since she keeps looking between him and Harry like she expects to catch something. 

 

“I guess we will find out at the ball.”

 

“I guess we will.”

 

Gemma is looking challengingly at him and he just looks back because Gemma can actually smell fear, he has learnt the hard way. So he is not going to let her see how unsure he is about this whole thing, about everything in his life right now. She seems frustrated by his calm demeanor whereas Harry still looks lost.

 

Finally, Gemma gives in and bids them goodnight before leaving him and Harry alone in the dining room.

 

“I did not know about Ms.--”

 

“Too lost in your own head.”

 

“I will talk to her about it, I do feel--”

 

“It’s alright. Not the first person to glare at me. It’s late, I should go.“

 

He has started walking and his hand is already on the doorknob when he hears an unsure voice behind him.

 

“Will you come to the ball?”

 

He doesn’t want to go. But that’s a lie because he does. 

 

Harry has asked him twice if he is going and Gemma will drag him anyway but something makes him smile to himself and politely reply,

 

“Good night, Mr. Styles.”

 

and walk out of the room without looking back at Harry.

 

When he lies in bed that night, he thinks back to what Ms. Baker had told him weeks ago about Harry just being confident and not vain. 

 

He has had his doubts about it but in the past few days everything he has observed and the conversation tonight has convinced him that yes, Harry is indeed just aware of his own education and proper upbringing. 

 

He is just very aware of the effect he has on people. 

 

Louis is very aware of that effect now, too. But yes, he does see what Ms. Baker had meant. Harry has still not offered an apology of any kind about saying offensive things but at least he has realized that he was offensive and in not so many words said that he did not mean to be.

 

Well, it’s not an actual apology but Louis will take what he can get. Maybe some time soon, maybe at the ball, Harry will apologise. Maybe he will just look bashful again with that smattering of bright red high on his cheeks. Louis will happily forgive him if he looks down at him like that. And that is a troubling thought so he is just going to stop thinking down this path and force himself to fall asleep.

 

Green eyes are a good distraction from worrying thoughts, he has found.

 

***

 

Harry is left standing in the empty dining room after Louis walks out. And he didn’t answer Harry about whether he is coming to the ball or not. He is not sure if Louis knows that Harry wants him to come and just how much he wants him to be there, but then he also knows that there is no way Louis hasn’t thought anything of the lingering glances. 

 

And Louis had smirked at him while talking to Gemma about Ms. Swiftly and even before when Harry had found himself blushing at the older boy’s words. He had been noticing for a while now that Louis’ words when he was in the room were usually teasing and then he would find piercing blue eyes on him that would make heat crawl on his skin. 

 

There is no chance that Louis does not see or understand the effect he has on Harry.

 

Sometimes, he feels like Louis says things when he is in the room just to make him uncomfortable. And he can’t help but fluster when he sees the boy looking at him after saying something teasing. He can’t help the warmth crawling up his cheeks and the blush getting deeper when Louis stares at him and doesn’t look away even if Harry can’t keep his eyes on him anymore.

 

He has to know, Harry thinks as he lies down in bed and pulls the soft sheets around him. Louis has to know. 

 

He has never felt this way before, about anyone. He has never before struggled with keeping his eyes off of someone. Sure, he has seen some handsome gentlemen and ladies alike in his time in Birmingham but never before has anyone been this hard to resist.

 

He can’t remember any time that he had to look across the room at someone, that it was a need to keep his gaze steady on a person. A need like a need to breathe.

 

Even as people around them talk, his eyes gravitate toward Louis and he finds himself mesmerized by what he sees. It takes him so much effort to look away when Louis is looking at him. It feels like he will drown if he doesn’t keep looking. And it still feels like drowning when he is looking into the ocean blue eyes that find his everytime across the room.

 

He has stopped lying to himself now because as oblivious as Louis thinks he is, he knows that if he is constantly struggling to catch his breath around someone and struggling to keep his eyes from drifting to them whenever they are around, then there is only thing that is happening here.

 

The thought scares him and excites him in ways he has never felt before, it also keeps him awake till late hours of the night. He makes a decision then, about the ball and about Louis. He really hopes that his smirk meant he is coming otherwise Harry would be very disappointed. He might be reading this situation really wrong, otherwise. And for the sake of his own sanity, he hopes not.

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? This was mostly just a filler chapter before the ball but still, did I do anything wrong? Anything right? At all?


	5. Love comes slow and it goes so fast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so the ball finally arrives! I am rather proud of this chapter. Although, confession time- I have lifted a specific conversation from Her Majesty, Jane Austen's work. If you're familiar with her work, you will know which one. I am shameless but I do apologize. I have improvised but the reason I mention it is because that part is going to sound different than the conversations I've written so, sorry. Okay, go on! *runs away and hides*
> 
> PS: There's a link in the notes for y'all! Also, I have it on good authority (thanks Sassy_Boo_Bear) that listening to Mozart's 40th symphony while reading this reduces risk of heart disease. Scientifically proven.

The house is in absolute shambles when Harry makes his way downstairs after a very restless night. There are dozens of people milling about and it’s all a cacophony of crashes and bangs and loud yelling, that’s probably his mother. He follows the sound and ends up in the big hall where he sees his mother giving directions to about half a dozen people who are polishing the floor and moving the furniture all at the same time. She looks like she is leading England in war and everyone else looks terrified.

 

Harry doesn’t dare interrupt her.

 

“--when you are done with that, take that big table from the library and put it next to that one. That is where the drinks will be. And the curtains need to be changed. And, we need to set up chairs in the corner for the musicians to set up. Did Louis ever get back with that gentleman from the Committee of Arrangements? He was also going to get jelly from town. Ms. Baker, could you go check if Louis is back?”

 

He is not really thinking when he abruptly stops Ms. Baker from responding.

 

“I can go.”

 

His mother turns around with a hand clutched to her chest and her eyes wide.

 

“You scared me! When did you come in?”

 

“I just did. But Ms. Baker doesn’t have to go, I can go check on Louis.”

 

“Oh, sure. Just see if he is back.”

 

“I will.”

 

With unsteady steps he makes his way to the stable. He doesn’t see anyone inside and Louis is definitely not where he usually is, on a bed of hay reading something or another. Harry calls his name out softly but when he doesn’t hear anything back, he makes his way through a back door he has been told leads to Louis’ room.

 

He isn’t sure what he expects to find but the sight surprises him. It is a decent sized room with a badly made bed that looks uncomfortable. There are books stacked everywhere but none of them are what Harry would find being taught at school. They are not what his professors in Birmingham would consider educational books.

 

There is a huge fireplace and the mantlepiece is stacked with random things, there are pebbles and so many other things that Harry doesn’t see a pattern to all the chaos. As he lifts his arms to grasp the doorway above his head as a way to look farther inside the room without going in, he sees a shirt haphazardly strewn on the back of a chair and he loses his grip and stumbles a bit when he realizes that it is the shirt Louis was wearing last night.

 

He knows he is behaving like a maiden, a shirt that Louis wore once has made him lose his footing and the warmth he feels around his ears is simply ridiculous. Why does this boy have such an effect on him, he thinks. It is just a shirt.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

His hands uncurl from the entryway he had once again gripped, at the sound behind him. He turns around to find Louis standing behind him with his arms crossed. His shirt stretches over his chest and a sliver of skin peeks out and oh god, Harry has to look away before he gets caught staring indecently.

 

“I was uh, I was looking for you.”

 

“Right. I am here so what--”

 

“Harry?”

 

He sees Gemma come up behind Louis, she stands next to him looking curious.

 

“I thought that was you. What are you doing here in Louis’ room?”

 

“I am not in his room, I am outside. But I came because Mum asked to see if he was here.”

 

He might just go to Church this Sunday to be grateful that it is dark in here and neither Louis nor Gemma can see the flushed look he knows he has on his face. His ears are burning up as he tries to not look at Louis or his sister. Or think about how he had jumped at the chance to look inside Louis’ room. Or how he is struggling not to look at Louis’ arms crossed over his chest again. Yes, he has a lot of things to be grateful about.

 

“Alright, well if you two will go away, I need to change and then start working on the fountain. Mrs. Styles said it needs to be sparkling so I have a lot of scrubbing to do. On my hands and knees all day.”

 

Harry is not thinking about Louis changing clothes. He is absolutely not thinking about Louis in any position whatsoever. He is a perfect gentleman.

 

“Harry, are you coming?”

 

Gemma has somehow moved into the stable without him noticing and he just bows his head and follows her without a backward glance. If Louis notices him flustered, he doesn’t say anything or smirk like he usually does.

 

Harry needs help. 

 

***

 

The others start tickling down about an hour later, Niall is the first one who rushes into the library asking Harry to find him food. Harry leads him into the kitchen and tells him to fix something up himself because he does not want to ask his mother to spare Ms. Baker for even one moment. He is scared of asking his mother anything right now, she has gotten even fierce than she was this morning. He can hear her giving out orders relentlessly.

 

Just as they are trying and failing miserably to make tea, Louis comes in through the back door and stops in his tracks when he sees them.

 

“Oh, I did not think you’d be in the kitchen at this time. I will come back later.”

 

Before Harry can stop him Niall moves fast and grips his arm to stop him from leaving. Harry clenches his jaw but stays quiet against the sudden irritation he feels toward his former roommate.

 

Louis looks at him though even though Niall is almost tugging him from where he stands.

 

“Is it alright?”

 

Harry wants to smash something just to relieve a bit of anger he feels at the question being directed at him. It’s because of what he did and what he said earlier that Louis is standing here asking him if it’s alright if he uses the kitchen.

 

“I can come back later.”

 

He is gently removing his arm from Niall’s grip when Harry finally finds his voice.

 

“No, it’s alright.”

 

Niall seems lost to this conversation as he confusedly looks between him and Louis.

 

“You have to ask for his permission to come in? Ms. Gemma told me you are a part of the family and went and came freely. I didn’t know you needed his permission.”

 

“Well, I used to--”

 

“No, he doesn’t.”

 

He surprises himself with the firmness in his voice as he says that. Louis looks at him sharply while Niall finds this amusing because he is smiling while tugging Louis toward the table where they have made a mess of milk and water trying to make tea. Harry turns around to butter the toast wordlessly as he hears Niall engage Louis in conversation.

 

“What were you two doing here? This looks like a cow’s just been milked on the shelf.”

 

Niall is clutching his stomach and laughing loudly the second the words leaves Louis’ mouth while the boy is looking at Niall too and smiling. Harry does not like this interaction. 

 

“You are so funny, Louis. No wonder Ms. Gemma is fond of you.”

 

“Why, thank you, Sir Horan.”

 

He really does not like this interaction.

 

“Harry and I were trying to make tea but this is what resulted of it.”

 

“This is an atrocity, a massacre of milk and all my faith. What were you even attempting? A do down with the teapot?”

 

“Stop, Louis!”

 

Niall is hunched over in half, trying to contain his laughter while Louis chuckles, shaking his head and cleaning up the mess they had made. Harry does not want tea anymore.

 

“Okay, here. Pay attention.”

 

Niall is suddenly very alert and following Louis’ every direction as he moves about expertly. Harry can only stand there and watch the two of them discussing tea as if it were the most important thing in the world.

 

“And that is how you make a nice cup of tea. Here, try this.”

 

He hands Niall a cup who takes it gingerly and raises it to his lips before blowing on it and holding his little finger out and making a show of sipping like a lady would. He makes contemplative noises before taking another sip and setting the cup down on the shelf. Louis looks at him with raised eyebrows and an expectant face.

 

“That is the best cup of tea I have ever drank.”

 

Louis visibly sighs in relief and Harry thinks he hates tea. While he is lost in silent contemplation, Liam enters the kitchen dragging a sleepy Zayn behind him. Neither of them acknowledges anyone as they silently find seats at the empty kitchen table.

 

“Can I get some tea?”

 

Niall rushes to pour him a cup and walks over excitedly, Zayn is sleeping at the table.

 

“Louis just made this after Harry and I failed spectacularly. It is better than even Mr. Evans.”

 

Liam looks mildly interested at Niall’s claim that Louis has made better tea than their butler while they were at school. Mr. Evans cooked meals for them and provided any snacks in between, Harry has sorely missed his lemon cakes. But it is a fact well known that Mr. Evans makes better tea than anyone else.

 

Liam cautiously takes a sip and a noise of surprise that escapes him makes Zayn lift his head and look around questioningly. He finds Louis and Niall nodding at each other while smiling like goons. Harry is looking positively murderous in the corner and Liam is sipping on tea next to him. He goes back to sleep.

 

“It really is! You must teach me.”

 

Louis makes a sound that Harry suspects was giggling but he dismisses the thought in favour of drinking the glass of milk he had poured himself after he gave up on wrestling with the tea.

 

“Harry, what do you think?”

 

“About?”

 

“About the colonies, what do you think? The tea, Harry!”

 

“Oh I haven’t had any, I poured myself a glass of milk.”

 

“Well, you can just drink the--”

 

“I should be off, then. Have to clean the fountain before Ms. Baker comes after me with a loaf of bread.”

 

His words are cut short when Louis hurriedly grabs a teacup for himself and rushes out the back door. He feels disappointed for some odd reason. And he doesn’t drink the tea out of spite.

 

***

 

About an hour later everyone is dressed up and fully awake. Gemma had come down shortly after the tea tutorial and had started talking about how she was really looking forward to the ball. Niall had mysteriously ended up sitting next to her while Liam and Zayn had silently finished their tea. 

 

Soon after, his mother had called Harry and told him to take his guests to the library and entertain them while the rest of the house is cleaned and prepared for the ball. He had obliged and here they are an hour later, all awake and dressed up.

 

Zayn suggests playing bridge but Harry feels too much anticipation about tonight that he decides to forgo the game. As he walks about the room trying to calm his nerves, his eyes fall on the violin he used to play before he left. 

 

He walks over and takes it out of the glass cupboard gingerly without disturbing anyone and finds a quiet spot in the corner to stand. He closes his eyes and raises the bow as his muscle memory takes over and he recognises the tune after he starts as Mozart’s 40th. 

 

He had always been very intrigued by the piece and had made Mr. Rochester teach him despite his objections that Harry should wait a bit for such a difficult piece. He had given in in the end though and Harry had perfected the piece by the time he was twelve.

 

He sways slightly with the music as the sweet sound seeps into him and everything else fades. All his worries and his tensions bleed out and his fingers move expertly with learned perfection. He must look silly to everyone with his eyes closed and his body swaying with the ups and down of the music. 

 

But he pours himself into it, because it’s a habit. It’s a need to let go completely as he plays, that’s the only way he knows how to.

 

For a while, he forgets. 

 

Everything is dark behind closed eyes and the blood rushing through his veins is bubbling as the tune gets sharp and mellows out and picks up again. And then blue eyes invade his private space and his hand trembles before settling more firmly as he deftly moves the bow back and forth for the deep part of the piece. His lips fall open and his hand tightens around the neck for a moment but then everything comes to a stop when he finishes.

 

Breath comes in short pants and his hands fall to his sides. He takes a moment to bathe in complete static as silence blankets the room.

 

When he finally opens his eyes, he sees everyone looking at him with shocked faces.

 

“I play sometimes.”

 

Everyone bursts out laughing and then they go back to their game after making him blush with compliments. This is why he never played in Birmingham, he did not want people to find out and praise him. Because he plays for himself, not for others. 

 

And just like every other time,it calms him down. He still feels a rush of nerves when he thinks about the ball but he feels more relaxed than before. The thought of blue eyes behind closed eyelids jars him and he gets up from the writing table to go stand in front of the large french windows.

 

He is looking out toward the lush fields and the trees as they sway gently in the wind outside when his eyes land on a figure as it emerges out of the fountain. Even from this distance, he can see the soaked white shirt as it clings to a defined chest as Louis leans down and stands up again with water cascading down his shoulders to his already transparent shirt and down his trousers as they mercifully cling to his thighs. 

 

He feels himself take in a sharp breath when he looks up from the dainty waist as the shirt clings to it and finds Louis looking straight at him. His eyes stay on Harry as he walks out of the fountain and pushes his dripping hair off his forehead. Harry is sure he has stopped breathing as he still impolitely stares at the wet, absolutely obscene boy. 

 

Louis firmly plants his bare feet on the gravel and Harry feels like he is standing in a furnace. 

 

And then in the blink of an eye, the boy turns around and picks up a mop to walk back into the fountain. Harry knows he should stop, this is improper but he cannot avert his eyes as Louis steps back into the water. Just as he leans down so that only his head is visible, Harry tries to look away. He tries. Then Louis starts to stand up again and his shoulders come out of the water and as he moves the mop, Harry can see his muscles moving under the soaked shirt and he promptly looks away because he cannot stand here and watch this indecent behavior. 

 

His face must be flustered red, with burning ears he turns around and finds Gemma’s eyes on him. Thankfully, Liam interjects a possible Styles Inquisition.

 

“Harry, why didn’t you tell us you could play like that? I actually took lessons when I was younger and then--”

 

Harry feels rude as he stops listening to Liam but he can hardly pay attention when Gemma slowly gets up and is walking to the window to stand exactly where he was a moment ago. Harry sees her eyes scanning the view and he can pinpoint the exact moment she spots Louis. She turns around abruptly and her eyes find his immediately and Harry has been caught.

 

He cannot lie anymore. Not that he was till now.

 

Gemma looks at him with narrowed eyes and he can only look back with a mask on his face. She seems to get the answer she was looking for as she walks back to sit beside Niall but her fingers brush his shoulder as she walks by, her hand grips reassuringly before it’s gone. Harry smiles privately as he allows himself to think of the ball. This time, it’s a good kind of nervousness.

 

***

 

It is all a dash of madness when his mother comes into the library three hours later and announcing that the house is now ready. She tells them all to start getting ready for the night since guests should start coming in a while. Gemma looks like she is really excited for it and Ms. Swiftly is looking at him with determination that he does not like the look of.

 

The boys scatter away to their rooms and Ms. Swiftly looks hesitant but she leaves too when Gemma asks her politely if she could have a word with her brother. They are both making their way out of the library when Gemma asks him,

 

“Harry, is there anything you would like to tell me? About--”

 

“There isn’t.”

 

He finds himself saying even though he wants to tell her. But it’s just the uncertainty of the whole thing that stops him. Gemma looks like she is going to keep pushing this issue so he leaps up onto the first step to rush up the stairs to his room.

 

Just as he is on the last step his feet stop when he hears, 

 

“You have gotten quite good with violin. I remember just last year when I had to run to Dr. Carlyle with my ears bleeding when you just would not stop playing.”

 

He holds his breath and doesn’t say anything, his eyes fixed on the boy standing in front of Gemma with his back to Harry. From up here, he looks even smaller. Gemma doesn’t answer.

 

“That was beautiful. I think I might have fallen in love there a bit.”

 

Harry’s eyes snap up to find Gemma looking at him. Louis is looking at her face, perhaps waiting for a response. When she doesn’t speak his head whips around and his eyes move up the staircase to find Harry standing there.

 

“I wasn’t the one playing. Harry was.”

 

***

 

He doesn’t know what he has done to deserve this. While he was already struggling with his inevitable downfall by dreaming about striking green eyes every night, now he also has to actively interact with the boy everyday.

 

It was well and fine till they were mostly avoiding each other with silent conversations here and there, but now they have moved on to real conversations. Just last night, he had said things to Harry that he would never have during daylight. He would never open up to the boy about his most private thoughts. 

 

And then even this morning when he had seen Harry in the kitchen and his mind had gone back to their first conversation in that kitchen, he had volunteered to come back later. But Harry had not only told him it was alright but with a very firm voice announced that Louis did not need his permission to be in the kitchen. That was completely the opposite of what he’d been told just a few weeks ago.

 

And then he’d refused to drink the tea Louis had made - not in so many words- but he had preferred to drink milk even after Niall had so vehemently said it was the best tea he ever heard. Louis could feel his head hurting then, from the hot and cold game that Harry seemed to be playing with him.

 

One moment he would stare at Louis unblinking as if he savoured every second of looking at him. And the very next he would act like Louis didn’t exist. 

 

He is absolutely finished with this game of cat and mouse. And that’s exactly what he is telling himself as he cleans the fountain while grumbling about beautiful rich boys who think they can push and pull all they want when the sweet sound of a violin playing somewhere jars him from his thoughts.

 

He is ready for it to get rough and for Gemma to push through anyway making it sound like dying cats. He almost has his hands lifted to his ears in preparation but it never comes. The music flows smoothly with sharp ups and downs and Louis finds himself lost. He has never heard this piece before because he would remember it. And since when did Gemma get so good.

 

He doesn’t realize that he’s stopped working and is just stood in waist deep water with his fingers moving on the surface along with the music creating ripples. He abruptly opens his eyes and looks around for a moment when the music stops, it does take him a moment to realize where he is and then he kneels down and starts scrubbing again, angry at rich brats.

 

Lost in his mumbling, he is walking out of the fountain with his wet clothes heavily hanging off him when in a moment of pure chance he looks up toward the house and finds a figure standing behind the library windows looking outside.

 

It’s Harry, staring at him.

 

He feels the familiar warmth pooling in his stomach as forces himself to hold his eyes even though it almost hurts to look. Harry doesn’t look away either and Louis knows he could stand there for hours and the boy would stay right where he is and then they’d both be nowhere so he swiftly picks up the mop and turns around to step back into the water.

 

When he looks up again, there is no one at the window.

 

He sees Gemma at the bottom of the staircase just as he is leaving the main house after Mrs. Styles had scolded him to go get ready for the ball. His mind goes back to the music earlier and he doesn’t think before he tells her he might be in love with that piece. She doesn’t say anything, which he finds alarming since Gemma and silence don’t really go along. He finds her eyes fixed on something behind him, he turns around to find Harry standing at the top of the stairs. 

 

“I wasn’t the one playing. Harry was.”

 

His breath does get caught in his throat when he realizes the implication of what he’s just told Gemma, especially when he finds curious green eyes staring at him.

 

He makes a quick excuse about feeding Jasper and rushes out of the house without a backward glance at either of the Styles'.

 

And that’s how he has ended up lying face down in his bed cursing every deity ever for giving him this fate. He has somehow ended up getting tangled with Harry in this weird fashion, and not only is he struggling to not drown in all these overwhelming emotions but also Harry is making it even harder. 

 

He wishes his mum was here right now, she’d know exactly the right thing to say. He lays there with his face mushed against the pillow thinking about how his life has been a whirlwind since a certain boy returned home from school. Somewhere along the line, all thoughts of the ball forgotten, he falls asleep.

 

***

 

Harry is finally dragged down when Gemma insists that he looks lovely - would definitely impress whoever he is trying to woo - and should leave the room before their mother comes and fetches him by his coattails. He unwillingly obliges.

 

As he walks down the stairs at a measly pace to accommodate Gemma’s extravagant gown, he finds all his friends waiting at the bottom of the steps. They all look up at them as he slowly guides his sister down with his arm looped through hers. 

 

The boys look neat and elegant in their perfectly-tailored suits. They all look like perfect gentlemen with their silky cravats and dark coats and finely styles hair. Ms. Swiftly is looking beautiful as well but her gown may be too hefty for someone of her build, he doesn’t say that though. And he also quietly accepts her arm as she loops it through his other arm. Gemma leads him to the hall.

 

“There you are, oh look at all of you. And my boy all grown up. Harry, I am so happy you are back.”

 

He leans down to kiss her cheek and he feels the tears on her cheeks against his skin. She is happy and that makes him happy. That and nothing else.

 

“Gemma, Ms. Swiftly, you both look so handsome. I bet all the gentlemen will be asking for a dance.”

 

Gemma is never one to easily show emotion and that is why Harry is surprised when he sees her fluster. Curiously enough, Niall moves a slightly toward her. 

 

“And all of you as well, you all look like proper gentlemen. Oh, I am so happy.”

 

They talk for a bit longer as his mother gushes and coos over all of them, he tries to not get impatient. 

 

Guests start to trickle in and his mum asks him to stand with her at the door to greet everyone since his father is not here. He had sent word yesterday saying he will be staying in London a bit longer and that he is sorry for missing the ball. He did promise that he will celebrate with Harry when he gets back. He bows down to greet Mr. and Mrs. Eyre as they step in with their daughter and then Mrs. Lucas shows up with her daughters.

 

He has been at the door for a while now and his back hurts a little from all the bowing he has been doing and quite frankly there is only one thought on his mind as he greets guests with a practiced smile and an attentive face. His eyes search the room continuously to find blue eyes looking back.

 

When everyone is present and refreshments have been served and the trumpet sounds signalling the start of the first dance, he offers Gemma his hand and takes position. His mother had told him he should dance with her as the Master of the house and she was the Lady of the house. 

 

After smiling at each other the whole time, they finish the dance. Harry is so glad that his mother decided to have this ball. It has been so long since he and Gemma have danced with each other and since he has felt like a brother. They part when Niall rushes to ask Gemma if she would dance with him next. 

 

He is left standing to the side, his eyes wandering the room. He finds several people looking at him and he knows he is to ask the ladies for a dance who do not have a partner. But he can hardly think of anything else right now, Louis being the only thought on his mind.

 

Ms. Swiftly somehow manages to find him even as he discreetly tries to stand next to the refreshments table and drink coffee. He is startled when he finds her standing behind him and the blush on his cheeks has nothing to do with her. He asks her for the next dance because he senses that is what she wants, she says yes eagerly.

 

Even as he makes his way around Ms. Swiftly to walk into his position and his feet move with the music, his eyes sharply look through the room. He is desperate now, a look, a glance would be enough. Anything.

 

It has been an hour since the ball started and Harry is restlessly walking through the hall looking around. He feels his breath hitch once when his eyes land on a gentleman of Louis’ build but it turns out to be someone else and Harry can feel the frustration and desperation seeping back into him.

 

If he looks at everyone with hostility and does not ask anyone else for a dance, no one complains. That is perhaps because he has situated himself in a quiet corner with a teacup in hand and his face is not welcoming. 

 

Niall and Gemma seem to be dancing every dance with each other and they both look ecstatic. Zayn and Liam seem to be doing the same, complimenting each other well as they share private laughs. Harry feels a tug of something when he sees them all. Happy.

 

Where is his happiness? Why doesn’t he have someone he can share all dances with? He thinks bitterly taking a sip of his tea and wondering if Louis did not come on purpose. Even after Harry had asked on more than one occasion.

 

As he spends hours waiting, he realizes something. 

 

He cannot see himself dancing with anyone else. No one in this room lures his eye, not one of the handsome ladies or the neat gentlemen. 

 

He cannot see himself doing anything with anyone else. He cannot see himself being with anyone else. Only Louis.

 

He realizes with a start that this has gone far beyond fondness or attraction. 

 

He is in love with Louis. 

 

Maybe it is the whiskey he had drank when he’d sneaked into the library a while ago or maybe it is the sudden realization that makes him rush toward Louis the moment he steps into the room. Harry had been watching the door like a hawk waiting for Louis to walk in.

 

He rushes past the people in his way uttering apologies as he swiftly reaches the boy nervously looking around. When his eyes finally land on Harry, they widen in recognition but he does not get a chance to speak before Harry takes his hand and leads him toward the balcony. 

 

He walks past quite a few curious faces and he knows he should not be gripping Louis’ hand but the whiskey running through him makes him reckless. Louis does not make any attempt to pull his hand back and it only makes Harry grip firmer.

 

When he finally crosses the sea of people and steps out into the fresh air, he turns around and Louis stops abruptly. 

 

He checks around to find there is no one in sight. His hand is still tightly clutching Louis’. He does not let go.

 

Louis is looking up at him with curious eyes but before he can say anything Harry takes a step toward him. With his hand clutching Louis’ and them already standing so close, this movement makes Louis step back as well. Harry does not think before he moves toward Louis till the boy’s back hits the wall. His eyes widen at the realization that Harry has him pinned to the wall, his mouth falls open.

 

He might be under the influence but he still remembers his manners so he controls himself. He reminds himself to speak in a formal manner so as to sound absolutely proper and relay his thoughts without offence.

 

His hand is still holding Louis’, he intertwines their fingers before speaking,

 

“I have been struggling so much. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. And as much as I have tried to stop, it will not do. No matter that I have fought against my own judgement, my family’s reputation, inferiority of your birth, my rank. I will put them aside and ask you to end my agony.”

 

He is looking straight into Louis’ eyes which stare back into his and for a moment he wonders if he has said all this in his mind. But then he feels a tug at his hand and with a confused mind he lets go of Louis’ hand and steps back. 

 

“The proper etiquette in such cases as this is to express obligation. I am sorry for causing any pain to anyone, it has been unconsciously done. It is civil that I offer gratitude and thank you but I cannot. I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly.”

 

Harry feels his stomach churning and his hand trembles as he listens to Louis speak while staring defiantly into his eyes. There is anger in those eyes and contempt. He feels his skin tighten over his bones as Louis continues.

 

“I am not sure how I am to approach this but it seems you have done good work of thoroughly offending me and insulting me over an accident of birth by implying that you like me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character. What am I to make of that?”

 

“Louis, I did not mean--”

 

“But you did. You most certainly did. Otherwise you would not bring up those things. But you did, and I could never return your affections if your need to assert your superiority was stronger than your feelings for me that you have supposedly been struggling with.

Good night, Sir.”

 

He is left standing in the cold with his hand lifted halfway to stop Louis but he cannot. He watches as the boy sidesteps people and walks out of the hall without ever looking back. 

 

He excuses himself on account of poor health. His mother looks worried while Gemma has a pitiful look on her face, she does not however try to console him. Perhaps his face tells her that he needs to be alone. 

 

He stays strong as he walks through the house and up the stairs. He holds it all in as he stands inside his room and takes off his clothes. He controls as he piles them up neatly on the dresser.

 

He breaks down as he quietly lays down in bed and finally allows himself to think about the harsh rejection he has just faced. As if the words weren’t cutting enough, Louis’ face while he was saying it haunts him. The look of absolute shock replaced by anger and disdain will keep him occupied, he knows.

 

He tries to think of something else, something happy but his mind refuses to stop thinking about how biting Louis’ words were. There is a wetness on his pillow when he finally falls asleep six hours later.

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boys at the ball: http://24.media.tumblr.com/83b08a4be745caea40eff2c99826f0a5/tumblr_mnnce1jcgb1qzbrhso2_500.jpg
> 
> http://25.media.tumblr.com/aa86f743cbed5dce89637f42bfe36f3b/tumblr_mnnce1jcgb1qzbrhso1_500.jpg
> 
> So? Any good? Please tell me what you think, I really need to hear it - the good and the bad, so lay it on me!


	6. Some things should stay unsaid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In light of the twitter shit-storm of 2014, here is my contribution to the chaos!

He wakes up befuddled, face squashed against his pillow and his arm hurts, it looks like he slept on it. It is dark outside and he can hear music. Wait, music.

 

The ball.

 

Oh bloody. He was supposed to go, Harry had asked him to go. He has to go. He gets up hurriedly and rushes over to the cupboard to find his suit neatly piled up inside, Gemma had gotten him it last year when he had tried to use it as an excuse to get out of going to the Lucas’ ball. She had gone all out and bought him a dark coat, proper trousers and shirt. She’d also bought him an expensive cravat that he had refused to take before he was forced by Mr. and Mrs. Styles .

 

He tries not to rush it too much and dress up properly but the thought of seeing Harry makes his stomach lurch and he has sit down for a moment to collect himself.

 

“I can’t let myself feel like this. I shouldn’t.”

 

His hand is trembling as he buttons up his shirt and smoothes it down. It takes him three tries to get the cravat right, as he stands in front of the mirror and catches sight of his flustered face, he forces himself to close his eyes and take a deep breath. 

 

Sitting on his bed, he runs a hand through his hair. 

 

“When did I let him in? When did I allow him to unsettle me like this?”

 

Nobody answers him in the empty room. He wishes his mother was here to tell him what to do. She would know. I have been thinking like this a lot lately, he reckons. Since when has he given Harry such power over himself?

 

A sharp knock on the door startles him from his thoughts. Gemma comes in and sits down beside him.

 

“Why are you dressed up but not at the ball?”

 

She looks pretty in her elegant gown but the smile that makes her truly beautiful is missing from her face. He takes her hand and looks curiously at her.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“I am, Louis. Are you?”

 

“Why wouldn’t I be? I am just--”

 

“Remember last year when you promised you would always tell me when something was bothering you. Are you breaking that promise?”

 

He looks at her silently, wondering just how did he ever come by such good luck to have found the best people in all of England.

 

“There are some things that need to stay unsaid, Ms. Gemma. And there are some that a man must worry about on his own. I am not breaking any promises I made, I am just asking for some time from you.”

 

“Then take as much time as you need. But just know this, he is worrying too. And some things must be said.”

 

“I will keep that in mind. Now, shall we?”

 

He stands up and holds out his hand, she smiles shyly at him and now she looks really handsome, he thinks. They walk slowly to the house talking about how everyone is enjoying the ball. Neither of them brings up their talk from earlier when they reach the big hall and Niall walks over to them. He looks like he had been patiently waiting outside the door for Gemma to return and the happiness on his face is unmistakable when he sees her. 

 

He shakes Louis’ hand and holds him in an awkward embrace for a moment before stepping back and asking for Gemma’s hand who shyly obliges. Louis cannot help but smile to himself at the dark blushes on both their faces, they look like they are competing on who can be redder in the face. 

 

He follows them both into the hall and instantly his eyes start wandering around the room looking for the reason he is here tonight. He catches Ms. Eleanor’s eyes instead and he sees her walking toward him when she spots him. Out of courtesy, he stays there and waits for her but his eyes still look around in search of a now familiar face. When he finally sees Harry, the boy is already walking toward him and he never gets a chance to speak as Harry leads him toward the balcony. 

 

His hand is clutched firmly in a much bigger one and he feels warmth blooming in his chest from the grip. His eyes are locked on the hand leading him out and he does not look up till a gush of wind makes him shiver in his thin clothes. He stops abruptly when he looks up and finds Harry already looking at him.

 

His green eyes are boring into him and his tall, lean figure looms over Louis as he takes a slow and deliberate step toward him. He involuntarily steps back, it’s his instinct to step away from the looming, dangerous figure. Harry does not let go of his hand, he steps even closer at an unhurried pace and Louis cannot help but keep moving back as Harry towers over him with his face leaning in close and then he feels his back hitting the wall and oh. 

 

He cannot help the surprise and something else unidentified that must show on his face because Harry’s eyes darken as he looks down at him. He has got Louis cornered with the wall behind him and his own body almost touching but not quite, his hand is still clutching Louis’.

 

When his long fingers move and intertwine themselves with Louis’, he has to swallow just to stop himself from making any undignified noises although this action of Harry’s could only mean one thing.

 

“I have been struggling so much. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. And as much as I have tried to stop, it will not do. No matter that I have fought against my own judgement, my family’s reputation, inferiority of your birth, my rank. I will put them aside and ask you to end my agony.”

 

His insides had started churning the moment Harry had gripped his hand and led him outside but the ache is now more uncomfortable than nervous. He worries he might be sick if he hears one more word but he holds it in because Harry needs to know that in the real world, what he says has consequences. That he cannot just say insulting, hurtful things and carry on with his life as if everything is alright. He must know, before he hurts someone else. 

 

So he squares his shoulders, pulls his hand out of Harry’s grip and prepares himself.

 

Harry must see something on his face or in his stance, he steps back immediately allowing Louis to move away from the wall. 

 

He takes a deep breath and tries to suppress the need to look up into mesmerizing green eyes. He has always been someone who would rather not hurt anyone, but if he gets hurt then he makes sure he fights back. He makes sure to bite just as hard and make it hurt more than he’s been hurt. 

 

“The proper etiquette in such cases as this is to express obligation. I am sorry for causing any pain to anyone, it has been unconsciously done. It is civil that I offer gratitude and thank you but I cannot. I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly.”

 

He sees the hurt expression on Harry’s face as his eyes cloud over with confusion, good, he thinks.

 

“I am not sure how I am to approach this but it seems you have done good work of thoroughly offending me and insulting me over an accident of birth by implying that you like me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character. What am I to make of that?”

 

He knows he is spewing venom but he has been hurt and in the most humiliating way possible - when he allowed himself to feel, allowed himself to fall. He finally let someone in and here is being insulted and told that he has essentially worn someone down to fall for him. 

 

“Louis, I did not mean--”

 

That Harry tried to not feel anything, that he’d rather not feel anything but Louis has forced him to - like a weed, like an unwanted intruder he has worn down Harry’s resistance and forced him to feel attracted to him. Well, he is definitely going to make sure it hurts.

 

“But you did. You most certainly did. Otherwise you would not bring up those things. But you did, and I could never return your affections if your need to assert your superiority was stronger than your feelings for me that you have supposedly been struggling with. 

 

Good night, Sir.”

 

If he was trying to hurt Harry and make him feel worthless then why does he feel like he might just break down any moment. He rushes into the hall and excuses himself as he impolitely walks past people to get out. The cold air is a contrast to his heated skin, he does not bother collecting his coat and just rushes out of the house. As he walks faster to get to the shelter of his room, he hears footsteps behind him. He does not stop.

 

“Louis! Stop, wait.”

 

It’s Gemma. He does not want to see her or anyone else. Hurriedly wiping his cheeks, he does stop though because he knows she would follow him anywhere.

 

“What happened?”

 

He clenches his jaw and in a bid to appear stronger, his voice comes out heavier than usual.

 

“Some things should stay unsaid.”

 

He starts walking toward the stable and thanks all the deities silently when he hears retreating footsteps. His hand is trembling when he closes the door behind him and an insufferable ache flares up through him as he rips his clothes off and throws them haphazardly across the floor. Nobody hears when he hurls the table against the wall sending the books flying across the floor. 

 

Something heavy settles in him when he finally lies down on his cold bed, tired from all the exertion. The realization that his mother was right, makes him a little more angry. Love is not about a person’s gender or their class or money, she used to say. She must be right, he thinks. From all the experience she has had in life, she must be right.

 

Harry must be confusing something adulterated like lust or affection with the purity of love. Otherwise he wouldn’t care about Louis’ class. He wouldn’t. 

 

It’s not love, he convinces himself eventually. Just before falling asleep, he convinces himself.

 

It is not love.

 

***

 

Something is wrong, he knows the moment he opens his eyes and his head starts hurting. Then, the memory of last night slowly trickles in and yes, something is indeed very wrong.

 

‘I could never return your affections’

 

Out of all the things Louis had said to him, had accused him of this is the one that hurts the most. Yes, the accusations hurt, yes it hurts to think that Louis thinks so little of him but he knows he is to blame for all of that. After all, he was the one who brought up class and rank in their earlier conversations. 

 

But it doesn’t matter anymore, none of it matters.

 

He does not care that Louis is not an aristocrat or that he did not receive a distinguished education, none of it matters. He is in love with the boy and nothing else matters. 

 

But Louis would never feel the same. He tries to get out of bed but it seems pointless. 

 

Plus, he couldn’t look at Louis. Not after watching him look at Harry with so much disdain and contempt in his eyes, he couldn’t bear to look at the boy again and be reminded of the harsh rejection. It is not so much the bitter words that hurt but the venomous way he said them. The almost triumphant look on his face when Harry had surely looked hurt. 

 

But the worst part is, he is willing to get hurt again. He is willing to go through all of that again if there was even a slight chance that Louis would look at him without hatred. He knows he has fallen hard, he had figured that out yesterday and today is just testament to the fact that he has indeed fallen in love with Louis.

 

He wonders if Louis would, if he could feel anything for him if he hadn’t said what he had last night.

 

If he had let it be unsaid.

 

***

 

As much as he would love to stay hidden in his room all day, he is famished by the time the sun has risen into the sky and he needs to be around company. He is just one of those people who needs to be around others. He wonders why has no one come to see him.

 

His question is answered when he finds everyone sitting at the kitchen table quietly eating. Nobody seems in a hurry to speak.

 

“Good morning.”

 

He announces softly before seating himself down. Some of them answer equally softly and some do not even bother. 

 

“Is everything alright? Why is everyone so quiet?”

 

“Everybody is tired from last night. 'Somebody' got the brilliant idea to bring drinks out of the hall and dance late into the night after the ball was over.”

 

Liam says in his stern-fatherly voice as Zayn looks like he is trying to melt the butter with his heated glare down at the table. When Harry looks around the table, everyone looks tired. Looks like they’d been drinking late into the night. Well, at least someone had fun.

 

His mother comes in shortly after he pours himself some tea.

 

“Harry, are you feeling better now?”

 

He feels everyone’s eyes on him as he silently nods at her.

 

“Do you need me to call Dr. Carlyle, he can come and take a look at you. You don't look so well.”

 

“I am alright, Mum. Just a little tired.”

 

Gemma is staring at him with disbelief written all over her face, he wonders how much she knows. If Louis has told her anything.

 

“Well, you should all stay in and rest today then. No need to go anywhere, even Louis looks a little under the whether.”

 

His head snaps up at her words and he knows Gemma is staring but it’s not like she doesn’t already know. 

 

“I took him into town with me just now, he did not seem like his usual self. I asked him if he wanted to see Dr. Carlyle but he refused. I do not even remember seeing him at the ball yesterday.”

 

He looks down into his lap, the guilt that overtakes him is immense. Louis must be feeling bad because of what he had said. So, not only has he insulted the person he loves but he has also successfully hurt him. Great job.

 

“Actually now that you mention it, Mrs. Styles, I did not see him either. Ms. Calder seemed to be waiting for him when we saw her last night. Liam asked her for a dance just because she looked so lonely.”

 

“We ran into Ms. Calder when we went into the shop this morning. She seemed to be displeased with Louis but then he invited her for a walk this evening. That might make him feel a bit better, I th--”

 

He had been listening patiently as his mother talked about Ms. Calder. He had been clenching his fist and listening silently but he couldn’t anymore. He can’t.

 

He doesn’t realize what he is doing as he hurriedly stands up and his chair screeches on the floor and falls back and everyone’s eyes snap over to him, his mother stops mid-sentence.

 

“I am going to walk to town. I need something.”

 

He walks out of the back door before anyone can stop him. His breath comes in short, eyes drifting all over the place and his feet carry him before he can stop himself.

 

He does not even know what to say, what he can say. 

 

He has no right to say anything, to even be here. And yet the anger and envy he felt at his mother’s words rips through him again and he loudly clears his throat to demand attention.

 

“Mother has just told me about Ms. Calder and you. If you were involved with her, you should have said so.”

 

Louis puts his book down in the hay and stands up, cleaning his clothes.

 

“I don't see how that is any of your business.”

 

“I proposed to you last night, the least you could do is tell me you are involved with someone else. I stood there and opened myself up to you, I said everything I had been struggling--”

 

“You stood there and insulted me and offended me. Is that your idea of a proposal? Tell me how you think I am inferior, small and unworthy and that you have tried to squash any inappropriate thoughts that I have forced you to have--”

 

“I said no such thing.”

 

Louis stalks forward with the purpose of a dangerous predator. His eyes are sharp and accusing and his hand is pointed at him.

 

“Don’t you dare lie about it. You might have been sweetly intoxicated, I was not. And I will never forget the offences you levelled at me.  
Someday, you will realize that an accident of birth does not give you the right to crush other people. It does not absolve you of your mistakes.”

 

“I know you believe that I think you inferior but I don’t. I do not. I am standing here in front of you right now and telling you that I do not in any way think you are any lesser than I am. My words were mistaken--”

 

“So you are blaming me now! Of course, the rich, highly-educated heir is always in the right.”

 

The contempt from last night is once again evident on his face, he has stepped even closer to Harry. His finger is touching his chest and his eyes are closer than they have ever been. Harry has to close his eyes and look away lest he do something he would later regret.

 

“That is not what I mean. I know that it sounded like that but I would never--”

 

“You already did, about half a dozen times. Reminded me how I am the ‘help’. Or did I misunderstand that too?”

 

“I did think like that, when I first came here. And then you changed it all. I did mean what I said last night, my affections and wishes are unchanged. And I will gladly prove it to you, but one word from you will silence me on this subject forever.”

 

He wishes, oh how he wishes that Louis will tell him otherwise. Just once.

 

“Find yourself a rich, classy woman and settle down. Your money or your rank does not give you the right to trifle with someone’s heart.”

 

He walks away leaving Harry once again in his wake. In the darkness of the stable, he lets himself feel. He allows himself to let the water pool in his eyes. The shrill shriek that rips out of him as he picks up the saddle near his feet and hurls it across the hay is loud enough that Louis would have heard it if he is still inside his room. 

 

He does not come out.

 

Harry stands there heaving for a while.

 

He is fine. Calm washes over him as he accepts the hand he has been dealt and walks out of the stable. 

 

He is alright.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am happy with the response for the most part but a request if I may, please tell me if I'm not doing something right. I mean I'm taking out time to write this and you all are taking time to read it so might as well be good for you. I'm really conscious about my writing, if it's any good or if it's me wasting everyone's time. Just let me know what you think!


	7. I dreamt about you nearly every night this week

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there's been a blizzard where I live and we're sort of snowed-in so here's an early chapter. Enjoy!
> 
> PS: I've read through this thrice but the stupid internet is messing up, so sorry for any errors but I am not reading through this again.

It is quiet around the Estate. Mr. Styles had returned two days ago and left again for London this morning. Niall had asked Gemma to marry him when they were in the forest, apparently he had asked for Mr. and Mrs. Styles’ approval and Harry’s blessing before proposing. Gemma has been smiling for a full day now and Louis is so happy for her. 

 

He has seen Niall looking at her like she is the world to him, and she deserves to be looked at like that. Niall had talked to him about proposing Gemma too.

 

“So, I have an important matter I wish to consult you on.”

 

“That sound oddly formal than our usual conversations.”

 

“Is there are a reason you are alarmed?”

 

“I have not had the best experience with seemingly formal conversations, let’s say.”

 

“Does this have anything to do with Harry, by any chance?”

 

He could only lift his eyebrow at Niall.

 

“I have noticed. I won’t meddle, but if there is one thing I know about him it’s that he has fallen hard for you. And he is not a bad kid.”

 

“Well, thank you for advocating him. I’ll let him know you are a loyal friend.” 

 

He had tried cutting the conversation short by starting to move out of the stable but Niall had stepped forward and grabbed his arm.

 

“I am not advocating him, Louis. And I can see that you feel something for him too, I might not have known you that long but you are my friend too. And I can see that whatever is bothering him, it is bothering you too. And he is someone who goes after what he wants so if he has given up, then I know it must be because you have asked him to.”

 

“Niall, I know you think you know me and you want to help but I think you should not bring this up again.”

 

Niall had stared at him without letting his arm go and he had stared back, a moment later his arm was free and Niall was stepping back.

 

“Alright, I do want you both to get over your pride and behave like gentlemen but you are right. I respect your wishes and I won’t bring this up again. Now, the important matter.”

 

“This wasn’t the important matter?”

 

“You are not the only one losing sleep over a Styles.”

 

“...”

 

“Oh god, that sounded so bad. My apologies. Okay, here is the thing. I want to propose to Gemma. Tomorrow. And I know she considers you her brother and I respect you so much, so what do think?”

 

“What do I think of what?”

 

“Well, do you approve of me? For Gemma?”

 

He had stood there dumbfounded looking at this boy, this man who had asked him if he approved of him for Gemma. 

 

He was the stable boy.

 

Just, how had these people come into his life, he was left wondering. 

 

“Yes, I do.”

 

“Thank you so much, it means a lot to me. And I have asked her parents and Harry so now, what do I do?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I mean how do I propose?”

 

My experiences with proposals has not really been stellar, he had wanted to say but kept quiet.

 

“You could do it near the lake. I could ask her if she wants to go to the forest tomorrow and then you can come along and propose to her on the lake. She told me it is the most beautiful place she has ever seen.”

 

Niall had lurched forward and draped himself all over Louis while expressing his gratitude. The proposal had gone by without any glitch. And it turns out, Zayn had asked Liam to marry him the night of the ball. 

 

So everyone is getting ready to start their new lives. Louis is not resentful, he is not. Not even a little bit.

 

He has not spent nights lying awake thinking back to Harry’s words.

 

“How ardently I admire and love you”

 

“My affections and wishes are unchanged”

 

He has not spent sleepless nights thinking about mossy green eyes and soft curls. 

 

Niall’s words have made him question everything. Louis might not have known him a long time but he is a good judge of character and he can tell that every word out of that boy’s mouth is true.

 

It does not help that Harry has been trying to stay away from him just like Louis tries to not go into the main house, and that it creates a hollowness in him, not seeing Harry. He feels like something important is missing. 

 

He knows he is in love with Harry. He just does not want to face it.

 

Harry wants him too. He tries to forget it but there is a constant reminder of it as his mind wanders and play those words over and over again.

 

"I admire and love you”

 

It is getting harder and harder to ignore the voice inside his head telling him he too deserves to be looked at like Niall looks at Gemma. He deserves to be loved too. 

 

Maybe he can find someone to do that.

 

But who is he fooling. It can’t be anyone but Harry. It has to be Harry.

 

***

 

After sitting around for days lazily doing nothing, the boys decide to do something and get out of the house. Zayn had proposed that they go horseback riding to the forest that Gemma is always talking about. Harry had shot down that idea as soon as it left Zayn’s mouth. 

 

After the ball, he can hardly be in the same room as Louis and what Zayn is suggesting would put them in close proximity for hours with nowhere to run. Not like he had last night, while everyone had a lavish dinner Harry had stayed in his room trying to prolong the time before he and Louis are forced to be in the same room, who he had later learned had chosen to eat in his room as well.

 

But if they were to take the horses and go to the forest, it would be inevitable for him and Louis to be around each other for hours at least. Also, he would have to come up with a good excuse for why he is not riding like the rest of them. In the three years that he has known the lads, he has done a good job of hiding the fact that he does not know how to ride. 

 

Right now they are all sitting around with determined looks on their faces and a sort of concentration that Harry knows translates to ‘We are most definitely doing something today’.

 

Before someone else comes up with another proposal that he would have to find an excuse out of, he speaks up.

 

“We could go shooting. If everyone wants to, we could go shooting. It is a clear day out.”

 

He watches as everyone’s faces contort in different stages of smiles. Gemma snorts at his suggestion and before he has a chance to ask her she loudly announces,

 

“Of course, you would want to go shooting. Because you are good at it.”

 

Niall jumps from his seat and makes the decision for everyone.

 

“Brilliant. Shooting it is. I hope you have good guns for us, I haven’t been shooting in so long.”

 

And they are off, walking out of the library in favour of changing and getting ready to go out and shoot while Harry stands there breathing heavily to calm himself down before going to his mother’s room to fetch her.

 

“Mum, we are going to shoot for a while. Could you get someone to open father’s gun room?”

 

He winces when he hears her bring up Louis but he knows he cannot say anything without bringing up suspicion, especially after dinner last night.

 

“Louis could help you, besides I think it would do him good to get out of the stable. He has been in there for so long, and I haven’t seen him around much since the ball. I think something might be bothering him, do you?”

 

He startles and looks up sharply at her question. She couldn’t possibly know, he thinks.

 

“I am sorry, what?”

 

“Do you think something is bothering him? I mean I have noticed that you two are not that close, you never talk. Is something the matter, Harry? Do you still not trust him?”

 

He is looking blankly at his mother and wondering just how has he dug himself in so deep. His own mother is unaware of his struggle, his inner turmoil that is killing him slowly. And she thinks he doesn’t trust the man he has given away his heart to. If only she knew, he thinks.

 

“No, I do trust him. But I don’t know if something is bothering him.”

 

“Well, I am sure Gemma would know. In any case, it would do him good to get out and be around everyone for a while. I will go ask him, he might say no to you.”

 

They are just words. Just six words his mother said to him, completely out of context but they hit him hard. The reality of it settles in heavier than he has let it since the ball.

 

Louis said no to him.

 

“Harry? Are you alright?”

 

He clears his throat and looks away because he knows his mother would see the pain in his eyes. She would see it.

 

“I am, yes.”

 

“You look really pale, are you sure you want to go shooting. You could stay in.”

 

He considers it for a moment, he thinks about how uncomfortable it would be for him and especially for Louis to pretend for hours. But then he thinks about how they have to learn to be around each other again because in the end they live in the same house. And he could not go today, he could not go to dinner when Louis comes but for how long. How long are they going to run away and hide from one another. If they start now, it would only get harder so he shakes his head and tells his mum that no, he is fine. 

 

“Well then, I will go get Louis and convince him to go. Because Lord knows that boy is stubborn.”

 

She chuckles a little and Harry can only return a dry laugh because he knows all about how stubborn Louis is.

 

“I might have to get Gemma to ask him. Come to think of it, I should ask her if she know what is wrong with him. If anyone knows Louis’ secrets, it’s her.”

 

She walks away and doesn’t hear when Harry murmurs, “No, she doesn’t, Mum. She doesn’t. Because he doesn’t consider this important enough to tell her.”

 

A sigh escapes him as he stands there in the bedroom telling himself that he is not going to make this harder for himself and for Louis than it already is.

 

***

 

Louis is reading Hamlet again and his worn copy of the book is gripped tight in his hand because even though he has read this a dozen times, it still feels different every time. He is trying to keep his attention on the story but intense green eyes and a warm breath on his cheek keeps distracting him.

 

Ever since the ball, he hadn’t been able to get the image of Harry - leaning in close, clutching his hand and looking at him like Louis is the only person he has eyes for – out of his mind. He finds himself thinking back to the night at odd moments throughout the day, this morning Gemma had come to ask him if he was okay and between rushed responses that he was and averting his eyes, he had lost himself in that image. And Gemma had silently stared at him till he came out of the daze. 

 

This is a huge problem, he knows. He shouldn’t let something, anything distract him like this. Whether it be handsome, rich boys or their hurried confessions of love. 

 

The trouble here is that he doesn’t know what he wants.

 

Actually, he does. He wants Harry.

 

It has taken him weeks to own up to this, to accept this himself but now that he knows he cannot deny it anymore.

 

He does want Harry. But he doesn’t want someone who thinks he is somehow lower than them, somehow lesser. Harry had made it clear that he thinks it inconvenient that he has fallen for Louis. 

 

As much as the thought of those green eyes keeps him up at night, he can never be with someone who thinks him inferior just because of an accident of birth. 

 

This is what he tries telling himself every time he sees Harry looking at him, because after everything that happened at the ball he still does find Harry looking at him. Only now, he knows why.

 

He sees the want in the longing stares. He sees the need in the intense, smouldering glares. And he sees the hurt in the averted glances.

 

Sometimes he is so close to walking over and just taking what he wants. But then he remembers the tight look on Harry’s face when he had said that despite the difference in their class, he still finds himself drawn to Louis. He had said it like it was an inconvenience. Like he was an inconvenience.

 

And Louis does not want to be anyone’s inconvenience, anyone’s burden.

 

So he has stayed quiet, tried to stay out of the house and out of Harry’s way. Because as much as it hurts him to think back on his words, he knows he is not strong enough to resist Harry for long. He is so close to giving in. 

 

For weeks now, he has been lying to himself but after Harry came clean about his feelings, he couldn’t anymore. So here he is, in love with a rich snob bastard who thinks Louis is dirt for who he was born as but he does find it hard to look away from the ‘piercing blue eyes that have kept me up many a night’.

 

Louis laughs to himself when he remembers his mother’s words about love, ‘You don’t see anything beyond that person, nothing else matters. Not who they are, not what gender they are, not what they look like. Nothing. You just need to be with them and everything else is unimportant.’ 

 

Oh, how misguided she was. And how sorry he is, that the person he did end up falling for thinks it’s an inconvenience.

 

He is startled by footsteps in the middle of his deprecating thoughts and he looks up to find Mrs. Styles standing there looking worriedly at him. The look on her face reminds him of his mother. He quickly pushes that away from his mind, he does not need to feel anymore terrible than he already is.

 

“Is everything alright, Mrs. Styles? I was just about to come—“

 

“Louis. Do you. Are you happy here? At Longbourn, I mean. Has someone said something to you? Or are you missing your family?”

 

He can hardly form words at the pace she is asking questions, he can see how her children have inherited the trait from her. Gemma has the ability to make anyone listen quietly and Harry can more than make people listen to what he is saying without even trying. 

 

“Has anything happened here? You can talk to me, or I can send Gemma if you’d rather talk with her. But don’t look so sad. You have been very closed off for weeks now, I want the old Louis back. We all do. Mr. Styles is going to be very worried if he sees you like this.”

 

He is stunned, stuck looking at this woman. She is looking at Louis like only a mother could. With concern lacing her tone but a determined face. And with no mind to how other people might find this inappropriate, that the lady of the house is conversing so freely with a stable boy. For a moment, he thinks what Harry would make of this. Would he ask his mother to behave appropriately and not involve with the help. Something inside screams at him that no, Harry wouldn’t say that. And then a familiar ache as he thinks, you don’t know him. 

 

“Louis, son I don’t mean to pressure you. It’s just that I am worried.”

 

“I am alright, Mrs. Styles. I just had something on my mind, it is okay now though. I am sorry for worrying you and if I wasn’t being attentive.”

 

“That is not my concern and you know it. If anything is the matter, just come to me or Gemma. You are a part of the family and if something is bothering you, feel free to tell us. I thought this much was clear.”

 

“Thank you, Mrs. Styles.”

 

“Do you not feel at home at Longbourn?”

 

“I do.”

 

He replies while looking into her eyes. And the truth is, he does. This place does feel like home. 

 

“Alright, then. I came to ask you if you wanted to get out for a while, I think it would be good for you. Harry and everyone else is clay shooting in a while, I think you should join them. Gemma would come and force you anyway, I thought I would ask if you were fine first.”

 

He wants to say no, just so he wouldn’t have to look at Harry and be reminded of things he has been offered but he just can’t have. He does not want to be witness to Harry and his friends doing things that rich people do. He does not want to see Ms. Swiftly throw herself at Harry without restraint. 

 

“Harry was a bit hesitant too, and he looked a little sickly. But I guess he wants to entertain his friends before they leave for Birmingham soon. I can get someone else to help them if you’d rather read but I thought you could use being around people.”

 

She is still looking at him concerned and how can anyone say no to a mother looking worriedly at you with guarded eyes and a warm smile. Or he wants to see if Harry is alright. 

 

“I can get the guns out.”

 

“Great, just make sure you don’t exert yourself too much. If you do feel unwell, tell Gemma or someone.”

 

“I will, Mrs. Styles. But I am alright.”

 

She pats his shoulder as he stands up and walks away with one last smile that looks too much like his mother’s.

 

***

 

Harry finally makes his way out of the house and toward the fields where he has been told the other are. He had taken a while to change and rest his mind before going out and facing Louis. When he walks over to where he can hear Niall talking excitedly, he finds them all scattered and fiddling around with guns. Niall laughs loudly at something Louis has said and none of them have spotted him yet.

 

From here, they all fit together. Louis talking about something with his arms moving rapidly and Niall hunched over laughing and clutching his stomach while Gemma laughs beside him with a hand on his back. 

 

Liam and Zayn are off to one side talking in hushed tones and smiling at each other. When Liam is looking toward Niall, Zayn looks at Liam with such a warm expression that he has to look away, afraid he is poaching on something private. 

 

They all fit together. They all could fit together, if Louis had accepted him. They’d fit perfectly.

 

He is broken out of his daze when he feels an arm loop through his and he finds Ms. Swiftly next to him smiling sweetly. He smiles back and feels guilty for leading her on but he doesn’t know how can he make it clear to her that he has already given his heart away to someone. Someone who doesn’t want him back but nonetheless, he doesn’t have anything to give her.

 

But he smiles back anyway, and out of habit as much as necessity he looks over to Louis to find him already looking. But the moment their eyes meet, he looks away sharply and it surprises Harry because despite everything that has happened between them Louis hasn’t averted his eyes like that since that first week. Even after the ball, they have tried to not be around each other but even then their eyes have met across rooms and Louis has stared back just as earnestly. 

 

He is torn out of his thoughts when Gemma loudly proclaims that everyone is here so they should begin.

 

Harry can’t help but keep looking over to check if Louis is watching. He isn’t.

 

“Okay Harry, let’s see if those shooting lessons paid off. After all the money papa spent on you, you should be able to hit six in a row.”

 

He does not look over at Gemma where she is standing next to Louis and Niall, just quietly loads the gun and nods to the young boy to throw the plate in the air. He must look quite determined what with his jaw clenching from where Ms. Swiftly’s hand has landed on his shoulder and she doesn’t retreat. 

 

Niall is cheering him on and everyone else looks on as he hits five out of the six plates thrown. He stays quiet as he lowers the Snider-Enfield Rifle his father had given to him on his eighteenth birthday to practice clay shooting. ‘Never use it to shoot anything live, Harry. All animals and birds are just like us, we shouldn’t be pointing at them with a weapon if they don’t.’

 

He had always hated shooting because of how people bragged about how many animals they’d killed but after his father had told him that, he had hurriedly started taking shooting lessons. 

 

“Brilliant! Is there anything you can’t do, Mr. Styles?”

 

Ms. Swiftly is now standing even closer and her hand is still on his shoulder. He hears Gemma make a noise so he looks over and finds Louis looking at him. His eyes shift slightly to Harry’s shoulder and the grip Ms. Swiftly has there and this time Harry does take a step away from her. Louis’ eyes turn away sharply when her hand falls from Harry’s shoulder, but before he can say anything Gemma cuts in,

 

“That was five out of six, after years of lessons. I think Louis could easily better that.”

 

Everyone is listening intently, Ms. Swiftly has moved toward him again and Harry really needs to practice not to react to Louis’ name the way he does. The man in question is shaking his head at Gemma while Niall and she encourage him. Then a sharp tone cuts through the almost silence as Ms. Swiftly speaks from behind him.

 

“Mr. Styles has been training, I really don’t see how a stable boy could—“

 

Harry clenches his fists when he hears the words and even though he had said much the same thing just weeks prior, he feels himself gritting his teeth to stop himself from saying something inappropriate to Ms. Swiftly. Gemma beats him to it.

 

“Louis has been training for about a year too, with papa. He quite likes it too.”

 

Harry was not aware of this arrangement and the thought of his father with Louis would have made him envious and angry just a few weeks ago but now the image brings along this warmth at the thought that Louis and his father get along so well.

 

“Be that as it may, I do not think leisurely shooting with ‘the help’ could rival formal training. I mean I am sure Mr. Styles is—“

 

She does not get to finish her sentence as a loud shot rings out. While Ms. Swiftly was busy talking and everyone was listening to her, Louis had somehow got a rifle in his hands and got the boy to throw a plate in the air. 

 

When Harry looks over he finds Louis with a Martini-Henry rifle balanced beautifully on his shoulder, he is all lean lines and determined set of shoulders as plate after plate is snatched and shot in the air until the rifle is empty after ten broken plates. 

 

Harry cannot take his eyes off the boy who always looked so small in his suspenders with big horses around him, but who looks the epitome of strength right now with a rifle balanced steadily against his set shoulders and he is all rough lines and sturdy back from where Harry is staring unabashedly. 

 

Louis lowers the rifle and Harry can see his jaw clenched tight, he looks over for a second and the resolution set in his features stirs something deep in Harry. But he only looks for a second before he turns his eyes away and hands the rifle back to Gemma. 

 

He has already taken a step toward Louis without realizing but Gemma’s voice makes him stop.

 

“Marvellous! I knew papa taught you so well! That was perfect.”

 

He sees Louis smile warmly at her, everyone else praises him too while Ms. Swiftly stays quiet behind Harry. Who can’t find any words that are not, ‘I need you.’

 

“See Harry? What did I tell you? Louis is so good at shooting.”

 

“He is.”

 

Louis looks up sharply as if the words of praise are so unexpected that he had never imagined it possible for Harry to say them. It’s his own fault really, that of all the things he has fallen for in the boy the only one he said out loud was that he wishes they were of the same class. 

 

But now he can’t hold back. His eyes won’t tear away try as he may and the electric blue ones looking back are steadily studying him. He hopes Louis can see the desperation and the need he is hiding underneath his neat and tucked exterior. 

 

If he does see it, he doesn’t say anything.

 

***

 

Louis returns to bed after a long and tiring day spent with the company. Ever since Mrs. Styles had come to fetch him to go shooting, he had thought this was going to be another day spent trying to forget hooded green eyes. 

 

But after Gemma had coaxed him to shoot, that’s not how it had been.

 

Ms. Swiftly had said something that made him unfurl.

 

When he had the words ‘the help’ slip out of her mouth, he had been reminded of everything Harry had said to him. In those first few weeks and at the ball. His instincts had won out when he grabbed the rifle from Gemma and didn’t stop shooting till he emptied it.

 

He couldn’t help the small twinge of pride he felt when everyone praised him. Ms. Swiftly’s face was somehow more satisfying than this praise. If he was a good person, he wouldn’t think so but then Louis never claimed such a thing.

 

He was in control of the situation till his eyes met Harry’s and the words, “He is” slipped out of the younger boy’s lips.

 

The same boy who had confessed his love not four days ago but everything else out of his mouth was an implied inconvenience that he fell for Louis. Not once had he said anything nice.

 

And today he had said it, with the most earnest look on his face. Louis had never seen anyone look so well-composed and yet so lost at the same time. The way those green eyes had lost the shine in them and just looked tired and needy, Louis hadn’t been able to look away like he had promised himself he would.

 

The rest of the day had been spent stealing glances, having silent conversations in a room full of people and saying things with guarded eyes that couldn’t be said aloud.

 

Harry was apologising.

 

He could tell, from his eyes. Not one word was spoken between them and yet Louis knew that’s what Harry was saying. 

 

I am sorry.

 

I want you.

 

The way he had looked across the room, across the half-dozen faces of friends and family, at Louis with a clenched jaw, a distraught yet stubborn face and smouldering emerald eyes, Louis knew he could only mean one thing.

 

I need you.

 

***


	8. I lost all of my innocence when I fell in love with you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There might be an epilogue, there might not be. No promises. This has been a pleasant journey, I hope I didn't disappoint all of you. Thanks everyone for reading and commenting. This feels awfully lot like a goodbye!

He has been hiding away in his room for hours now, lying about having a headache. Truth is he cannot function properly anymore, the tough exterior he had spent years perfecting is crumbling now. His face doesn’t stay passive anymore. 

 

Every time he sees Louis, it’s a harsh reminder of all the things he could have had. He wants to walk up to him and just fall down on his knees, beg. How could he have been so blind? How could he have ever thought that he’d be happy with a beautiful wife in a big townhouse in London? Did he not know himself at all?

 

This is bordering on madness now, how he has to physically restrain himself from reacting. It is ridiculous how he stands behind furniture, clenches his hands to physically bar himself from walking toward him. How he stands in the corner just to put ample distance between himself and Louis so he wouldn’t reach out on a whim. It is madness.

 

Harry has never felt this before, has never had this affinity toward someone. In twenty years of living, he has never felt this incessant need for someone. And he is lost on what to do with it.

 

Louis has told him to stay away, to find someone else and settle down. If only he knew, if only he believed that Harry doesn’t think he could settle down with anyone else. But he had given his word that if Louis wanted, he would never bring up the proposal again and he is going to keep it. Pain him as it may.

 

Across the kitchen table, his mother is asking if the boys are ready to return to London. They are leaving this afternoon and everything is packed and ready. Harry wishes they could stay a while longer but he knows they need to return sometime. Ms. Swiftly is sitting silently on the other side of Niall. She hasn’t looked at or spoken to him since they had their talk last night.

 

***

 

“Ms. Swiftly, I have an important matter to discuss with you. Would you kindly accompany me to the library?”

 

She smiles wide at the request and Harry feels a wave of guilt wash over him as he leads her to the library. She silently follows and stands next to his writing desk.

 

“Please know that this has taken me quite an effort to say. I do not mean any disrespect or offence.”

 

After his arguments with Louis, he has learned his lesson.

 

“It is my opinion that a gentleman should declare his intentions toward a lady before any sort of misunderstanding and in this case, I am afraid I have been less than gentlemanly. Let me say this with the utmost clarity, I do not intend to propose to you. And I apologize if I have ever led you to believe otherwise, that was not my intention.”

 

She sits down on the sofa and her eyes are stuck to the floor. He does not know what to say.

 

“Is that all?”

 

Her voice sounds broken, she still does not look up.

 

“I do fervently apologise for any misunderstanding I may have caused. You are a handsome lady with many prospects, I am sure. Any gentleman would be pleased to have you as a wife.”

 

“But not you.”

 

“I am afraid I would not be honest with you if I said--”

 

“Why?”

 

“It would be unfair to you and to me if I were to commit to you while my heart was elsewhere engaged.”

 

“It is that stable boy, isn’t it? The one that you cannot keep your eyes off of?”

 

He looks up sharply at her, but all fight leaves him when he sees her tear stricken face and accusing eyes directed at him.

 

“Are you going to marry him? Or are you just bedding him? I have seen you practically undressing him with your eyes while your mother and sister sit at the same table, so tell me are you just fulfilling your carnal needs or do you plan--”

 

“Ms. Swiftly! I wish to part on friendly terms with you, I will not stand here and listen to you insult Louis or me.”

 

“My God, you are absolutely besotted with him!”

 

He looks away at that while she stares at him silently. It’s not like he could deny it. He knows and he has accepted it.

 

“What can he give you that I cannot?”

 

He feels a fresh wave of the now familiar pain wash over him. 

 

“You will be pleased to know perhaps, that he has not given me anything. He never will.”

 

It might be his stance or the finality in his voice that stops her from saying anything else about Louis. She sighs loudly and gets up from the sofa.

 

“Well, now the both of us are heartbroken. I knew you were trouble when I first saw you in Birmingham. But alas, we are both masochists, it seems. Good night, Mr. Styles.”

 

***

 

She had seemed like herself when she came to the kitchen this morning. Albeit a little inhibited and maintaining some distance from him. There is no hostility like he was afraid there would be after last night but she does not meet his eyes either. 

 

Niall is excitedly recounting how he is planning to go to Ireland to visit extended family next month, his hand clasped tightly in Gemma’s. They both look like they could possibly not be any happier. Zayn and Liam had announced two days ago that after years of skipping around each other, Zayn had finally proposed the night of the ball. They are going to return to their homes and inform their families immediately. Zayn wants to get married this summer and Harry has never known Liam to deny him anything.

 

“And then me mother will want to come visit you, is that alright?”

 

“Of course it is, we would love to have her here. Oh, I can’t wait for you all to get married! And then Harry is the only one who needs to find someone. I just want all my children to be happy.”

 

They all look at him with somewhat sad and pitiful faces and all he can do is smile politely.

 

“I am happy, mother.”

 

“Yes but you need someone to love you. Your father and I are not always going to be--”

 

She is interrupted when Ms. Baker comes in and hands a letter to her. She stands up and excuses herself to go into the library. He stands up just as she leaves, but then she comes back in a second later.

 

“If you are all finished, you should come along into the library. We shall continue our talk, this is just a letter from Mr. Styles. Perhaps his travel details.”

 

They follow her into the library and settle down quietly. Harry walks over to his desk to pick up Hamlet, he had started reading it again yesterday. He is walking toward the empty sofa when he hears a gasp and turns around to find his mother looking pale and ready to collapse.

 

He rushes across the room to get to his mother before she falls to the floor and he hardly gets there in time to hold her head before she hits it. He is sitting on the floor now cradling her head in his lap as everyone else panics and rushes to stand closer to where he is.

 

He tries to sort his thoughts and remember what Dr. Carlyle had said to do if she faints but he comes up empty. Gemma is kneeling close by and holding mum’s hand and the rest of the lads are just standing around and looking really concerned. He can’t get a word out of his mouth and is left looking around at the others waiting for someone to say something.

 

He sees a flash of movement from the corner of his eye and looks up to see Louis running in and pushing Zayn aside to kneel in front of Harry. He touches mum’s forehead and pushes her hair out of the way, Harry can’t take his eyes off of him.

 

“You all need to step back, give her some space to breathe.”

 

He says without looking up at the lads surrounding them and they just look on confused but don’t move. Then he removes his hand from her forehead and looks up at Liam and says harshly,

 

“I said move back. Give her space to breathe.”

 

It seems to jerk the others to react and they scatter away to go stand at the back of the room. Gemma removes her hand from around mum’s and pats Louis on the back before getting up and moving to stand with the boys. Harry is left wordless at the display of trust Gemma has just put in Louis with their mother’s life.

 

Louis pushes his hand into his pocket and removes a leather pouch, the question dies on Harry’s tongue when he opens the pouch and removes a small vial that he opens and puts to his mother’s nose.

 

It hadn’t been a moment that she springs up from his lap and breathes in sharply. Harry’s eyes are stuck on Louis who is asking his mother if she is fine and she responds positively. Gemma rushes over and helps her stand up, Louis is still kneeling in front of him closing his vial and putting it back into the pouch and Harry can’t look away. He is stuck sitting there looking at Louis who doesn’t even acknowledge him.

 

“What happened?”

 

“Louis did something, I remember him telling me something about salts.”

 

“They are called smelling salts. I was talking with Dr. Carlyle when he came to check on Mr. Styles last year. He told me about this thing they were using in London for people who faint frequently, so I went and bought some. I thought we might need some after Mrs. Styles fainted after that accident last year.”

 

“You just saved her life.”

 

“Actually, she would have been just fine even if I hadn’t.”

 

Harry finally stands up from the floor but he still cannot shake the daze he is in. Neither can he talk or take his eyes off Louis.

 

“So you have been carrying those salts with you for months?”

 

Liam is looking questioningly at Louis with wide eyes as if he can’t contain the awe he is in.

 

“It’s just a small vial.”

 

“What is it even?”

 

Liam does not sound very convinced by the off-handed manner with which Louis is treating this.

 

“It’s made from an Ammonia solution, it’s a salt. It irritates the nose and fastens the heart rate so the person is forced to breathe in and wake up. I did a bit of reading on it after talking to Dr. Carlyle.”

 

Louis mumbles the last part but Harry catches every word from where he is standing and it takes him longer than is probably appropriate to tear his eyes away from Louis’ face to look at the other people in the room. Gemma has moved to get mum to sit down on a sofa and the rest of the lads are still in the corner and every person in the room is still looking at Louis.

 

Harry feels a tug in his chest and he knows he shouldn’t look at Louis. He knows because he can feel the familiar wave of want surging inside him and as much as he has tried to clamp down on it, it has been getting stronger. 

 

The voice inside his mind telling him how good Louis is, has been getting louder every day. And he knows that soon enough he would not be able to smother it anymore.

 

“That is very impressive of you, Louis.”

 

“Yes, you just saved Mrs. Styles.”

 

“See? I always say Louis is really smart. He is always reading when he is not working. I told you, Harry.”

 

Gemma is looking at him questioningly and he doesn’t know how to respond. His body aches to turn toward Louis and look at him, acknowledge him in some way but he suppresses the need.

 

Louis snorts and with a dry laugh replies to Gemma, “Thank you for the kind words, Gemma.”

 

“Always.”

 

She replies with a warm smile and Harry can’t stand to be around this anymore so he promptly excuses himself and makes his way to his room upstairs. 

 

He would like to pretend that he didn’t hear Louis mumble “Of course” just was he was leaving but he knows what he heard. And as much as he would like to go back and tell Louis just how many restless nights he has spent dreaming of blue eyes, he keeps walking and takes the stairs two at a time to get away faster because he can feel his will crumbling. It’s a matter of time before he wouldn’t be able to stand to be in the same room as Louis.

 

***

 

The sky is overcast with dark clouds as everyone piles into the two carriages leaving for London. Louis has already warned Mrs. Styles of the bad weather but then she showed him the letter Mr. Cowell had sent informing her of Mr. Styles’ poor health. So Mrs. Styles and Ms. Gemma are both accompanying everyone to London. 

 

Harry looks upset but Mrs. Styles is quick to reassure him.

 

“Somebody needs to stay home and you have not been feeling that well lately. You need to rest, Harry. I promise we will write as soon as we get there.”

 

“I should go with you, I am alright and I need to see him.”

 

“He is not very unwell, Mr. Cowell said it is just a bit of fever. You need to stay here and rest, let Ms. Baker take care of you.”

 

It is a spectacle to see all the boys saying their goodbyes. Everyone is embracing everyone and promising to see each other soon. Gemma walks over to him when everyone else is talking among themselves.

 

“Will you be fine? With him, I mean?”

 

“I thought we decided not to talk about that.”

 

“Yes well, I thought you were smarter than you are.”

 

“Gemma, it’s--”

 

“Nothing. It’s nothing. You are both being idiots, thinking the other one doesn’t feel the same way when you have both fallen equally hard. I mean he hasn’t looked me straight in the eye for days, looks like he is lost inside his own head. You have been hiding away for days. Just how far are you two willing to hurt each other?”

 

“It is not that simple, there are other things--”

 

“What things? Tell me.”

 

“You wouldn’t understand. He is your brother.”

 

“So are you.”

 

She looks on determinedly and he has always been weaker than her.

 

“He just, he is rich and handsome with a prestigious degree and I tend to horses. And he knows it, keeps reminding me of it. Of how I am lesser than he--”

 

“He says things before he has thought them through, I know. Yes, he is my brother and yes, he is proud but the man I have been looking at for five days has lost all his pride, all his sense and direction. I am only going to say this once. He couldn’t love you any more than he does. And neither could you. So, you have to take the leap here. He is never going to say anything again. Even if it kills him.”

 

She kisses him on the cheek and moves away before he can reply. Niall seems distraught as he says goodbye and embraces Louis but all he can think about is what Gemma has said. Harry looks exhausted by the time everyone has gotten into the carriage. They both stand there and wave till the carriages are gone from sight. 

 

Harry turns around without a word and walks into the house, leaving Louis behind him wondering if he can take the leap.

 

***

 

It is getting darker outside without the afternoon sun, the clouds are looming in the sky and a soft pattering of raindrops on the stable roof has started as Louis turns the next page of Hamlet. He is struggling to keep his mind in the story and not think about everything that has happened since Harry came to Longbourn. Gemma’s words have been replaying in his mind for hours but he forces himself to read about Ophelia’s suicide. 

 

He is startled when he hears hurried footsteps running toward the stable, Ms. Baker comes rushing in holding on to her hat and stops short when she sees him sitting down with his back against the haystack.

 

“Louis! Oh, I thought you would be in your room what with the rain. Oh, I just ran through it to get you, I uh, Harry--he uh, he went out. I don’t know where to look, he is not back yet and it is getting dark and the rain is--”

 

“He is not home?”

 

“No, he went out right after everybody left. I warned him about the rain but he didn’t listen and he is not even dressed--”

 

“That stupid, stupid fool!”

 

“Louis, you have to go find him. He is going to be sick if--”

 

He rushes toward Jasper and gets him out of the stall.

 

“I will get him, you should go back in the house. Ms. Baker, don’t worry I will find him. You just go to bed, alright?”

 

She nods at him reluctantly.

 

“I think I know where he is, don’t worry I will find him. You go back and go to bed.”

 

He does not stop to hear her response in his hurry to mount Jasper and rush toward the forest, he knows Harry wanted to go there - he had heard him asking Gemma about it but Louis thought he’d have enough sense to not go in poor weather like this. 

 

“You stupid idiot!”

 

He is going as fast as he can as the fat raindrops hit him almost painfully, blurring his vision. His clothes are soaked and his wet hair is matted to his forehead as he pulls on Jasper’s reign to go faster. His mind is ceaselessly thinking of Harry’s exhausted face from this afternoon when everyone had left for London, thinking of how Harry isn’t dressed appropriately to be out in this weather. He is furiously blinking his eyes to keep the water out even though it hardly helps, when he sees a dark figure off to the side of the path and he slows down.

 

“Harry?”

 

Jasper comes to a stop a little ways away from the figure that Louis can now see is leaning against a tree.

 

“Harry?”

 

There is no answer once again, he wonders for a moment if this is someone else. But then a slight movement makes the curls on Harry’s head become visible in the dwindling light and Louis jumps down from the horse and slowly makes his way toward the figure.

 

“Harry? It’s me.”

 

When he gets closer, the figure moves ever so slightly and he can see that Harry is shivering violently, his teeth are clattering as he has almost fallen on the tree bark, he hurries forward and takes Harry by his shoulders shaking him lightly.

 

“Harry? Oh bloody! You stupid, stupid idiot! You fool!”

 

Harry finally lifts his head up a little and Louis sees almost-blue trembling lips and a pale face staring back at him. His eyes are closed and his arms are wrapped around his thin torso in a violent grip. Louis feels something inside him snap at the sight. 

 

Harry looks so vulnerable in that moment, so delicate and Louis feels irrationally angry. This boy needs to be warm and protected always, he should never look like this. Louis hurries and takes off his coat and drapes it over Harry’s hunched shoulders, he takes it without a protest. Then he guides Harry toward Jasper, but the boy can hardly stand up on his own so Louis leans his body over his own, his hand wrapped around Harry’s waist.

 

“You are such a fool! Why did you have to come out today? And dressed like that? You would have died if I hadn’t come another ten minutes! You proud snob!”

 

He is yelling at this point and the state Harry is in is not helping matters either, the way his green eyes have lost all shine tugs at his heart painfully as he pulls the boy even closer. He trembles when Louis wraps his arm tighter and it just makes him even more angry, even more frustrated. Frustrated that he can’t get Harry to a dry, warm place right now. 

 

“Yes, tremble and shake! Good! You deserve this for being such a bloody idiot!”

 

Harry does not respond to any of this, he just silently walks next to him. Jasper seems a bit irritated at being left alone in the rain but Louis can hardly deal with one majestically stupid creature right now.

 

“Harry, hop on.”

 

The boy finally makes a movement, he turns his head slightly to look questioningly at him.

 

“I can’t--”

 

“I know, but I can. Just climb on.”

 

He takes his foot and helps him get on and then follows him. It runs a shiver down his spine when his body comes in contact with Harry’s. He pushes it down and moves himself forward to get closer to Harry, his front is now lined up perfectly with Harry’s back and he can feel him trembling. He takes Jasper’s reigns in his hands as they come around Harry’s waist and tugs sharply getting Jasper into motion. He feels Harry tense up and his legs fall limply so Louis pulls his thighs around Harry’s and leans forward a little to whisper to him.

 

“Hang on, Harry.”

 

His body is a long line of fire wherever Harry is touching him. Harry finally loosens up a little and leans back slightly against Louis’ chest. At one point, his head is tipped back and resting on his shoulder, Louis brings his thighs closer together, squeezing Harry’s legs in the process. He needs Harry to be alert and not fall asleep and that is the only reason he is holding the boy so close. 

 

The rain has started falling even faster as they ride out of the forest, Harry is trembling in his arms and all Louis can do is tug at Jasper to run faster. He only has one emotion right now, fierce protectiveness.

 

He needs to get Harry to someplace safe. He has to make him warm and dry. Make sure he is not trembling anymore. He needs to.

 

“Hold on just a bit longer.”

 

Harry nods lightly and Louis feels his heart pound faster as his wet curls brush Louis’ neck when he moves his head. He concentrates on the path ahead of them and not on the warmth slowly spreading through him as Harry’s hand moves to rest on one of Louis’ thighs. His arms tighten around Harry’s waist and on Jasper’s reigns.

 

He is glad when they finally arrive and he hops off first to help Harry get off the horse before tying Jasper in a hurry and leading Harry to his room. The fireplace is lit and he guides the boy toward it.

 

“Stand there for a moment, do not move!”

 

He orders harshly and is pleased to see that Harry obliges, as he goes to his bed and removes the thick blanket and makes his way to Harry.

 

“Your clothes are wet, you should take them off. Take this blanket and sit in front of the fireplace. You can change here, I will go--”

 

His words are stuck in his throat when Harry silently reaches up and removes his soaked, transparent shirt. His wet curls fall delicately over his forehead and his eyes when he lowers his arms and Louis misses a breath at the sight. His skin is pale and covered with goosepimples and Louis almost reaches out before he is shocked out of his trance when Harry effortlessly loosens the ties on his trousers and lets them fall to the ground. He is wearing undergarments but Louis cannot help the flush that he feels crawling up his cheeks at the sight of Harry bared indecently in front of him. 

 

Harry does not make any move. Louis moves forward and drapes the blanket around his trembling shoulders and makes him sit down in front of the fireplace. Harry obliges, once again.

 

Louis is left standing there, soaking wet himself looking at Harry drowning in his blanket on the floor in front of the fire. He turns around and removes his own shirt and drapes it on the back of his desk chair. His trousers go next and he does not bother to cover up before finding a towel and settling in beside Harry.

 

The boy does not look up from the fire as Louis dries his hair - albeit a little forcefully than absolutely necessary, he is angry that he has no control over his actions anymore.

 

“Ms. Baker warned you about the weather but you just had to go, didn’t you? Never listening to anyone, just always lost in your own head! Why can’t you ever listen to anyone?”

 

Harry looks up at him then, his teeth have stopped clattering and there is a dusting of red high up on his cheeks. His eyes are dark as they look into Louis’, the fire reflecting in them. And he loses all rationality when he looks into them and surges forward crushing his mouth against Harry’s. The towel slips from his hands as his fingers trace through wet curls and he feels Harry move his lips against his and finally respond. All thought abandons him as his hands travel down Harry’s neck and down his chest to unwrap the blanket and let it fall on the floor beneath them. 

 

Harry’s hands find their way into Louis’ hair and that is the moment he gives up every last shred of self-control and leans forward to push Harry to lie him down and settle over him all within a moment before either of them realizes what has happened. He pushes at Harry's lips roughly when he remembers all the times this boy has made him angry and frustrated. His hand pulls at his curls sharply and Harry’s mouth falls open underneath him with a loud whine, he covers his lips insistently and his tongue licks over Harry’s as the boy trembles slightly underneath him. 

 

There is no going back now, he knows as he bites harshly on Harry’s lips and moves his legs to settles in between Harry’s. He can feel his hardness against his thigh and it just makes him want more. He loves the delicate little noises Harry is making underneath him as his mouth moves to his jaw and down his neck and Louis’ stubble scratches at the already sensitive skin. He can hear Harry’s breath hitch and his little gasps and whines when Louis deliberately moves his thigh against him. Harry tries to move back against him, create delicious friction but Louis forcefully puts his hand on the boy’s hip to hold him down and whisper in his ear. 

 

“Let me.”

 

Harry nods eagerly as Louis moves his hand from around his hip down toward his thighs and strokes him roughly as Harry moans breathlessly under him. He stops when Harry arches off the floor with a loud whine. His hands goes to his chest to hold him down. He looks down to find pleading green eyes staring up at him and he thinks he could never get out of this alive. 

 

“Stay.” 

 

He whispers in Harry’s ear before getting up to fetch the olive oil that sits by his bedside. When he lies down again, Harry is looking at him questioningly but his eyes widen in recognition when Louis shows him the oil. He lowers himself down on the floor again silently and when Louis goes to kiss him, he says in the most timid voice Louis has ever heard,

 

“I love you.”

 

That sets something ablaze in him and he sharply pulls back to sit down on his haunches, dipping his fingers in the oil and circling over his entrance lightly. When he hears Harry wince, he pulls them back and rubs his palms together to warm the oil before going back and tracing the ring of muscle that clenches under his touch. 

 

It takes all the patience he has to move one finger slowly around him and then lightly push it in before pulling it out. Harry is breathing harshly with every movement and he thrashes about when Louis finally pushes in a finger up to the knuckle, he lets it stay for a bit but Harry whines his protest and Louis can do nothing but pull it out and add another finger. He is mesmerized by all the sounds and movements Harry is making under him, his eyes are trained on Louis except when sometimes Louis pushes too hard or moves his fingers about and Harry has to clench them shut. 

 

He stares at Harry in his absolutely dishelved state and looks up toward the door he had locked wondering if someone were to walk in this instant what would they think of Harry lying underneath him in complete abandonment making delicious sounds of absolute surrender. Writhing under him with his hands clenched in the blanket and his lip caught painfully between his teeth.

 

Harry is moving along with his fingers now, looking for more than Louis is giving him. So he pulls his fingers away and wipes them on the carpet underneath him, Harry is mewling softly and Louis thinks just how has he stayed away from him for so long.

 

He lowers himself over Harry and without giving him much time, enters him in one rough thrust, Harry has sucked in a deep breath and is lying still underneath him with his eyes clenched shut and his lips parted. Louis stays for a moment to let him adjust to the stretch. He has to look away from Harry’s face because it makes him want to pound in mercilessly and not stop at even the cries he knows Harry would let out. He closes his eyes instead but they fly open when he feels Harry moving underneath him to pull Louis closer. All inhibitions are lost then. 

 

He pulls out and thrusts in with his eyes locked on Harry’s. They get a rhythm going and Harry’s stare does not falter until Louis pulls out almost all the way to thrust harder than he has so far, then Harry averts his eyes away. Louis looks at the half wet curls and long eyelashes, the blush riding high on Harry’s cheeks. He looks at the pale, pliant body underneath him and a sudden thought brings his running mind to a halt.

 

Has Harry been like this with anyone else? Has anyone else seen Harry like this?

 

He feels a sudden tug in his chest at the thought. He never wants anyone to see Harry like this. Anyone to make him feel like this. Anyone to touch Harry like this. 

 

He leans forward and his teeth rake against Harry’s collarbone as he thrusts hard. He bites down roughly, his hand goes up to grip around a stray curl and pulls sharply. He is rewarded by a low whine that rumbles through Harry’s chest and Louis can feel it against his own. Harry’s hands are clenching around the blanket and he is writhing under Louis.

 

His tongue laps soothingly at the mark before he bites down again and pounds harder, Harry moves his legs to wrap them around Louis’ waist to feel him deeper. He is moaning wetly under him and Louis wants more. He nips softly along his neck till he reaches that sensitive spot under Harry’s ear, then he digs his teeth in and bites down. Harry’s arms come up around Louis and his nails rake down his back as Louis thrusts in harder with his toes digging into the carpet. Harry is making incoherent noises underneath him as his nails move painfully down his back.

 

He kisses the dark bruise that has formed on Harry's neck before leaning up and growling into his ear, 

 

“Mine.”

 

Harry trembles under him and his hands still, mouth parted obscenely. He goes completely still under Louis, a contrast to his earlier loud, wanton self. Then Louis feels wetness pool between them as Harry shudders underneath him and he feels him clenching around Louis with a searing pressure and he comes undone. 

 

Harry’s arms around him are the only thing keeping him there, all strength leaves his body. His thighs hurt, his toes burn from where they were digging into the carpet and his arms give out from under him and he lands unceremoniously on Harry. He does not seem to mind though as his arms hold on to him. 

 

A moment later, he pulls out and rolls over to lay by Harry’s side. They stay quiet as the logs burn silently in the fireplace and raindrops thud softly against the roof.

 

He feels an arm on his chest then and Harry’s soft curls against his neck as the boy nuzzles against him. Louis thinks he might just deserve nice things too. He might just win, for once.

 

“Yours. Only yours.”

 

Harry softly whispers in his ear when Louis drapes the blanket over them. He startles when he hears the brutal honesty in his voice. He thought Harry hadn’t heard him. 

 

But the way he is looking at Louis right now, with complete surrender and raw love, he thinks he has never loved anything more in his life. 

 

He feels the blood rushing through his veins in that moment as he leans down to kiss Harry chastely. It is a mere brush of lips, completely different than the heat and passion of just moments ago and Louis thinks he is addicted to both. Harry sleepily smiles at him and he smiles back. 

 

He stays awake for hours afterward, listening to the soft snoring next to his ear. The rain has stopped now, Harry has completed surrounded him and the blanket is draped loosely around his waist as he thrashed around in his sleep. Louis just lies there thinking maybe his mother was right after all. It does not matter who it is, once you have fallen in love. 

 

He dreams of green eyes again that night.

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for that awkward attempt at smut. I suck, I know. But I must have done something right, right? Maybe?


	9. You'd destroy me, and I'd let you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so here's the epilogue. And since I can't do things halfhearted, this is part I of the epilogue. There's another part to come. Enjoy!
> 
> PS: *****-Flashback

His fingers are carding through soft hair as the carriage moves along with a rhythm of falling into the bumps in the path. Louis is snoring softly with his head cradled in Harry’s lap and every once in a while he makes a startled sound in his sleep, so Harry rubs at his cheek softly while whispering, “Shhh.”

 

It should be him that is worried, should be him that is nervous. They are going to meet Louis’ family in Yorkshire and Harry should be the one worried but Louis has been nervous for days.

 

Harry had tried consoling him, telling him it will be fine for the first hour but by then he had realized it was futile. See, Louis is nervous in two ways. One, when he is genuinely distraught and needs reassurance, wants reassurance but won’t ask for it. Harry has learned to read him now so he can tell when he needs to step up and be there for Louis even though he never asks. 

 

And second, when Louis is nervous but he doesn’t need consoling. Because it won’t matter. This is when he exhausts himself with worrying, chews on his fingers and fidgets for hours and exhausts himself into sleep. 

 

That is what he is doing right now. They have been travelling for a good three hours now and Louis had fallen onto his shoulder in the first hour. Harry found him so endearing when he did things like this, but he had to hide his smile because Louis hated it when Harry said he was precious or adorable. 

 

And for a good half hour, he kept falling asleep and leaning on Harry and then waking up when the carriage jerked. After that, Harry had forced him to lie down and pulled his head into his lap. He can hardly believe his fate as he looks down and softly touches Louis’ cheek. His eyes flutter a little in sleep and he lets out a little huff of breath but remains asleep. 

 

Harry looks out the window and thinks what a dream this past month has been.

 

*****

 

He wakes up to a dark room and it takes him a moment to realize that this is not his room. A warm body next to him startles him but then he sees Louis with his mouth parted with soft snores escaping and his hair falling over his eyes. 

 

He closes his eyes and lies back down. The memory of last night comes back to him and he blushes just at the thought of it. 

 

Even though no one is looking, he hides his face beneath the blanket as flashes of Louis scolding him and wrapping him up in a blanket and then growling in his ear come back to him. He stays buried under the blanket and takes deep breaths just to keep himself quiet.

 

Just a few hours ago, he’d thought that Louis would never reciprocate his feelings. He’d spent more than a month struggling with unrequited wants and needs, all those times he had stared at Louis and Louis had stared right back and he had been moments away from drowning in frustration. All of that anger and anxiety, all of the desires and fantasies he had been suppressing have finally been fulfilled. 

 

And the object of his desires, the only person he has ever truly been in love with is lying not half a feet away from him. He bites down on the blanket once and then peeks out. Louis is still asleep.

 

He lies awake for hours, looking at the man sleeping next to him. He wonders just how he got here. Surely, he doesn’t deserve to be happy. After everything he put Louis through, after every hurtful word he said, Louis still accepted him. He still went after him in freezing rain and brought him home. And just the way that he had looked at Harry last night, like he couldn’t forgive himself if Harry got sick - he is the luckiest man in all of England.

 

That Louis has chosen him, that Louis has so much as looked at him twice. And the tenderness with which he had dried his hair last night, the raw need when he was kissing him. Every touch and every caress, every word and every whisper. He is so, so grateful that Louis has given him a second chance.

 

He reaches out and touches Louis’ cheek tentatively; he’s biting his lip as he does it because just the mere thought that he can do this now fills him with so much anticipation and joy. He settles in next to Louis and scolds his heart into behaving. It slows down eventually and he slips into slumber.

 

***

 

Louis wakes up because it is too warm and he vaguely remembers that it is February and it shouldn’t be this warm. When he finally wills his eyes open, he finds a head of curls right next to him. Harry.

 

He removes himself slowly from around the boy and looks around. It is light outside and the rain has stopped. The fire is still burning in the fireplace and the room is too warm with the windows and the door locked. He gets up and opens a window, his foot gets caught on something as he is walking back while rubbing his eyes and he ends up on the floor. 

 

Clothes are strewn haphazardly on the floor, a reminder of last night.

 

He gets up and puts them in a pile on the chair. The oil next to the fireplace is too close to Harry’s foot so he takes it away too. By the time he has cleaned up a little bit, the memory of last night has been burned in his mind. So much so that he can hardly look at his clothes or the bowl of oil without flustering. 

 

For some reason, in broad daylight he is too shy to remember everything that had happened between them. Even though they love each other, some things should wait until marriage. But the moment he had seen Harry in the rain - quivering and weak with his pale face and trembling lips, he knew he was in too deep to go back. 

 

And every second of last night will be etched in his memory forever. Just the feeling of soft skin, the whimpers and wet moans will keep him alive if nothing else. He has never felt this strongly about anyone, and maybe this is why they say love destroys you. 

 

Because as he looks at Harry with his curls falling over his face, at his lean back and the blanket covering his modesty, he knows that this boy will destroy him. Someday, some way he will lead to Louis’ end. And it scares him to think that he would gladly let Harry wreck him. That he would just stand there and take it. 

 

This is why he never wanted to fall in love. Because he saw his father wreck his mother, he was there and he promised himself that he would never let it happen to him. 

 

And here he is, with beautiful death lying next to him. But when his fingers toy with the soft curls and Harry moves in his sleep, he finds that he does not mind. He would gladly hand Harry the gun himself.

 

“Good morning.”

 

Harry smiles at him and brings up the blanket to cover himself. His eyes wander around before settling on Louis’ and his cheeks turn a beautiful red when they meet.

 

“Good morning.”

 

Louis almost doesn’t breathe when he hears the deep, rough voice directed at him. Oh god, he is most certainly going to die. 

 

“Are you feeling alright?”

 

Harry just nods his head, his cheeks are still bashfully red.

 

“You are not used to sleeping on the floor though.”

 

“It’s alright.”

 

He says and Louis reaches forward to remove the blanket enough to show his lips. Harry smiles at him and for the first time, he sees dimples in his cheeks and he wonders just how has he never seen them before. 

 

“I have never seen your dimples before. How is it that I missed them?”

 

“I just haven’t smiled a lot in the last few weeks. Now, I have a reason to.”

 

“Oh, so you have finally found your voice then?”

 

He smirks and Harry pushes the blanket down to push lightly at his chest. Louis shoots his hands out and catches Harry’s. He keeps them on his chest and bites his lip, Harry’s eyes boring into his.

 

“Those eyes of yours have kept me up so many nights. Never thought I would have a proper night’s sleep again.”

 

“You turned me down, remember? Told me you could never love me. I’ve spent far more nights dreaming about you and hurting than you have.”

 

“You were the one who told me you were struggling because I wasn’t rich and--”

 

He feels a hand on his lips and his words die on his tongue. Harry is leaning in so close that he can see flecks of gold and brown in his eyes.

 

“I never meant to, I swear. I was just so much in love with you that I did not even realize what I was saying. I never meant to say that, I promise. I honestly do not care about anything else. Just you.”

 

Louis wants to say something funny, anything to break the seriousness between them but he finds himself leaning forward and brushing his lips against Harry’s softly.

 

“I know, love.”

 

Harry blushes a little at the term of endearment but then Louis is lying back down and pulling Harry on top of him. The blanket gets tangled between their legs and Harry is laughing with his head on Louis’ shoulder as he grips him tightly. 

 

When he does look down, Louis leans up and kisses his nose. 

 

“I know.”

 

***

 

When they finally stumble into the kitchen still dressed in their clothes from yesterday, the way Ms. Baker looks away and keeps staring at the bread in front of her, Louis knows that she saw more than she wanted to. Perhaps she came to his room this morning and saw them both lying entangled on the floor. Her red face definitely suggests so. 

 

“I will be in the pantry if you need anything.”

 

Just as she leaves the kitchen, they burst out laughing. Harry is blushing as he covers his mouth with his hands and laughs in a peculiar fashion - it’s like he has surprised himself too and the laugh escapes him before he can control it. It is the kind of laughter that rings loud and makes a person’s eyes twinkle. Louis is absolutely in love with him.

 

Harry moves toward him once he has stopped laughing, his hands come to sit around Louis’ waist and they feel like they just naturally fit there. He makes tea while Harry stands behind him with his arms around his waist and his chin balanced on his shoulder. And Louis wonders how did he ever live without this?

 

“I thought you didn’t like my tea.”

 

“I never tried it.”

 

“That was hint enough.”

 

“I just did not like that you liked everyone else but me. You were so nice to Niall but when I tried to talk to you, you just made fun of me.”

 

“So you insulted my tea in return? Did not even try it?”

 

“I wanted to. But you were always so angry with me.”

 

“Well, you were the one who insulted me the first time we met. So obviously that meant that I had to insult you every time we talked. No offence, darling.”

 

Harry just pouts like a toddler being denied a toy and Louis puts the teapot down because he will definitely drop it if Harry doesn’t stop doing what he is doing. His curls are tickling Louis’ cheek as he moves his head around on his shoulder. This is ridiculous, Louis thinks. How can one person change his life so much in a matter of hours?

 

“Why are you making faces like a toddler, Harold?”

 

“Harold? That is not my name.”

 

“Well, now it is. Harold.”

 

“Alright, Lewis.”

 

“Are we learning to keep up now, then?”

 

“I could always keep up with you.”

 

“Oh, could you? Didn’t look like it last night.”

 

Harry turns a bright red and his hands tighten around Louis, he can actually feel Harry’s skin heat up next to him. Louis thinks he is never going to get used to how beautiful Harry looks when he blushes, his cheeks turn rose coloured and his eyes just lower to the ground as his lashes brush against his dimpled cheeks. 

 

“Oh God, Harold. Stop doing that, please. You are going to be the death of me if you keep this up.”

 

“Keep what up?” He asks timidly, the dimples still etched in his cheeks. 

 

“That. Things like that.”

 

He reaches up a finger to poke his dimple, Harry just smiles wider.

 

“Why did you stop making tea? Is this distracting you?”

 

His hand snakes up Louis’ chest and he moves half a step toward him so Louis feels Harry’s chest aligning against his back. A shudder runs down his spine when Harry’s hands move higher on his chest and he breathes against his ear.

 

“Am I distracting you, Lewis?”

 

His breath hitches when Harry pushes himself harder against his back and brushes his lips lightly against his ear. If he was still holding the teapot, it would be on the floor in pieces.

 

“Are you going to insist on doing indecent things like this in public?”

 

Harry does not answer him, his hands are still on his chest as he kisses Louis’ ear.

 

“We should not be doing this in the kitchen.”

 

“Where should we be doing this, then?”

 

“In my room. Don’t you want tea?”

 

Harry just leans down further and his cheek touches Louis’ as he whispers,

 

“Tea can wait.”

 

He wonders if he is ever going to be able to say no to Harry again as he leads him back to his room. He does not think he will ever get used to being with Harry, having him and being his. They hardly make it back inside before Harry is kissing him. He leads him to the lumpy bed and holds him down as he makes love to him. Tea long forgotten.

 

***

 

It has been three days since they have been confined to Louis’ room, only leaving for minutes at a time to get food or tea. Harry is sure Ms. Baker and everyone else knows by now, or at least they have a fairly good idea. 

 

They have spent three days talking and exploring, learning and teaching each other. Everything they think of, have lived through or dream or fear they have told each other. Every intimate part of themselves, physically and emotionally they have bared to each other.

 

Louis had started telling him things that were superficial - things that seem important but are not. Slowly, he had started sharing himself though. Things about his family and his life in Yorkshire. Harry listens carefully and tells himself to remember the smile that spreads on Louis’ face when he talks about his sisters. 

 

Harry tells him about Birmingham and his life there. He tells him how he had met each of the other lads and what they were like. He tells him about life at Longbourn before he went away. 

 

They just lie there and open themselves up to each other.

 

Louis is telling him about how Gemma had come to him and asked him to be her brother when there is a sharp knock on the door. They both startle, Louis gets up and goes to answer the door as Harry pulls the pillow closer to him and covers his face with it. He almost screams out loud when he hears Gemma’s voice flitting in over Louis’.

 

“No, you should come back--”

 

“If I want to see my brother, I am going to see my brother. What is he even doing in here--”

 

He just stands at the end of the bed with his head bowed. When he looks up, Gemma is staring at him with her mouth wide open. Louis is behind her looking flustered. 

 

“Did you, are you. I…”

 

“How was London?”

 

“It was alright.”

 

“Mr. Styles?”

 

“He is fine. Resting now, in the house.”

 

“Mum?”

 

“She is fine too.”

 

There is an awkward silence as they all stand around staring at the floor.

 

“So. Mum asked me to call Louis for dinner tonight. I guess you should come too.”

 

He can only nod at her, his cheeks are burning and his voice will definitely break if he tries to talk. 

 

“So, I will leave you two now. To do what you were doing, alone. In Louis’ room. With the door locked. And with your clothes--”

 

“Gemma.”

 

Louis stops her before she can say anything else. Harry is just glad that they were both dressed up when she knocked. He would not be able to live down the embarrassment of his sister seeing him unclothed with Louis.

 

“Right. So come for dinner.”

 

Louis turns around to walk her to the door when he stops abruptly.

 

“So does this mean that you two are engaged? You talked about everything?”

 

Louis nods at her and offers her a smile, she just embraces him tightly in return. Then she walks over to him and pulls him into an embrace too.

 

“Oh, I am so happy for you both. This is such a good day. Oh Harry, Louis. I can’t wait to tell Mum. Although I think you should tell her. And papa, he will be so pleased.”

 

She leaves after embracing Louis once again.

 

They are both left in silence after she leaves. Neither one of them talks for a while.

 

“I do not mean to make any assumptions but do you really want to marry--”

 

“I do.”

 

Louis is quiet for a moment.

 

“I know that you are the heir to Longbourn and that certain things are expected of you and I am not-”

 

“You are everything I want. You are all I need. Everything else, I do not care for.”

 

He is holding Louis’ face in his hands when he says it, hoping that his eyes can convey the sincerity behind his words. Louis does not answer him.

 

***

 

He goes to see his father before they go for dinner. He looks well, and he smiles when he sees Harry walk through the door. They talk about the ball and about London for a while.

 

“How are you feeling now?”

 

“I am fit as a fiddle, Harry. Just some old age, is all.”

 

He nods his head and smiles at him, not knowing how to bring up what he wants to say.

 

“Is there something on your mind, son? I can see that something is bothering you.”

 

“I have something I want to ask you.”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

“What do you, about Louis, I mean do you…”

 

“What about Louis? He is a great boy, I adore him like a son.”

 

“Well, what if I were to tell you that I have fallen in love with someone?”

 

His father just nods at him silently.

 

“And what if I were to say that that someone is a gentleman?”

 

“Go on.”

 

“And what would you say if I told you that that someone is Louis?”

 

“Then I would say, that you have chosen wisely and I am happy for you.”

 

He leans forward and in a moment of joy embraces his father.

 

“And does he return your affections?”

 

He nods eagerly.

 

“Well, I must congratulate him too then. I had told your mother this, when he first came here. I told her, ‘Anne, just wait till Harry gets here. These two are going to be inseparable’ and she laughed at me.”

 

He can only look down and smile to himself. His mother comes in a moment later and he tells her too.

 

“I have something to tell you.”

 

She looks worried the moment the words leave his mouth.

 

“It is a good thing.”

 

“Well, tell me then.”

 

“I have fallen in love with someone and I want to ask you--”

 

“Who is it? Is it someone I know? Gemma had this outrageous idea that you had proposed to Louis and I told her that you two hardly talk to each other and she laughed me! Can you believe it? She laughed at me and said, ‘Oh Mum, you should see those two together’. I don’t know what has gotten into that girl, she--”

 

His mother breaks off suddenly, he finally looks up from where he had been staring at the floor since the moment she brought up Louis. He knows his cheeks are burning and he does not want her to see that but he looks up out of concern when she abruptly stops talking.  
When he looks up, he sees both his parents looking at him.

 

“Is it? It couldn’t be…”

 

He just lowers his eyes and nods his head. He can hear her gasp, his father is laughing in the background and he feels his skin heat up even more.

 

“Oh Harry! But I thought you did not like him. I mean, all those time when you said I shouldn’t send Gemma alone with him and when you did not want to go shooting with him after the ball and Gemma said you proposed at the ball but you were feeling unwell at the….”

 

He just sits there with his head bowed as she silently puts all the pieces together and his father is still laughing.

 

“You did propose to him!”

 

“I did,”

 

“And he said no.”

 

“He did. Because I said some things that I did not mean to and he thought I was insulting him but I was just too nervous that I did not even realize what I was saying. But he rejected me that night. And it was hard for me to be around him after that.”

 

“Oh Harry!”

 

She gets up and walks over to him, holding his head and carding her fingers through his curls.

 

“But we have talked about it now, he knows that I did not mean any of those things. And he loves me too.”

 

She pulls him to herself and holds him tight when she hears that. 

 

“I am so happy for you. So, so happy. He will always take good care of you and you must take care of him too. Oh, this is such a good news.”

 

“What did I tell you, Mrs. Styles? Did I not say that these two will be inseparable?”

 

“You did, Mr. Styles. You did. Oh, I am so delighted.”

 

He stays there for a while, telling them about the rain and how Louis had saved him bar what happened afterward. He just says that Louis went after him and got him home safe and then he went to bed. They both start telling him about Louis before Harry got here and an hour passes by while they recount stories of Louis, and Harry can see just how fond they both are of him and he feels a sense of pride settle in him.

 

***

 

He is just finishing up feeding the horses when Gemma comes and asks him if he wants to go for a walk. He can tell that she wants to talk so he starts walking with her toward the fields.

 

“I am so glad that you and Harry have solved your differences. He loves you a lot, and I can tell that you do too.”

 

He doesn’t know what to say so he just walks along silently.

 

“Louis? You do, right? I mean he has really fallen for you and he is going to be crushed if you do not reciprocate--”

 

“I used to think that I was better alone. I saw my mum break down and be completely ruined because of my father and I told myself that I was never going to fall in love. I made myself believe. And I know I will be wrecked just like her, maybe even more if Harry ever leaves me but I am willing to take that chance. For him, I am ready to risk it. I guess that is what love means.”

 

She has stopped walking and is staring at him. He just looks back at her. He has got nothing more to say.

 

“That is how I feel about Niall. Looks like we are both in deep.”

 

They walk the rest of the way in silence until she brings up how they talked it out. Louis blushes when he remembers that night but he tells her anyway. He knows that if he can tell anyone, it is her. He leaves out the part after they had both gotten home. She smiles at him but does not ask anything else. He feels like everything in his life is great.

 

When they come back from the walk, it is already dinner time so they both walk to the dining hall together. Mr. and Mrs. Styles are already there, Harry is nowhere to be seen.

 

Just as he is about to sit down, he feels someone tap him on the shoulder and when he turns around, he finds Harry kneeling in front of him.

 

“What are you doing? Get up!”

 

“Louis, will you do me the honour--”

 

“Harry, your parents are here, what are you--?”

 

“--of marrying me?”

 

“What?”

 

“Will you marry me?”

 

He looks around and finds everyone staring at him. They are all smiling.

 

“Go on, son.” Mr. Styles tells him and Louis is so lost right now.

 

“What about your--”

 

“They know, and they approve.”

 

He can only gawk and Harry stays on his knees and looks up at him expectantly. His dimples are showing.

 

“Louis, I love you so so much. Please say yes.”

 

Well, there is nothing else he can say, is there?

 

“Yes.”

 

Harry jumps up and pulls him into his arms while whispering thank you, thank you in his ear. Everyone else is smiling and cheering. Mr. Styles comes and pats him on the back.

 

“Welcome to the family, son. Officially.”

 

Mrs. Styles holds them both and cries even though Mr. Styles tells her to pull herself together. Gemma proudly announces that she was the one who encouraged them to talk. They both thank her and she just grins in response.

 

Dinner passes by so quickly, Louis is still lost in his thoughts. Everyone bids goodnight and leaves. Harry takes his hand and they walk toward the stable in silence.

 

When Louis has locked the door behind him, Harry walks up to him and takes his hand. He is shocked when Harry silently slips a ring on his finger and kisses it. 

 

They lie in bed exhausted an hour later, and Harry kisses his finger again before drifting off to sleep. Louis lies awake for hours afterward, his hand playing with Harry’s curls as he stares at the boy beside him and occasionally looks at the ring. He has something to ask Harry tomorrow morning.

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well? Was it worth it?


	10. Always in my heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end. For real. Okay, then.

He is absolutely drenched in sweat and it feels like he is in a furnace. When he opens his eyes, he finds it’s only Harry.

 

“Oh god Harold, my own personal fireplace!”

 

Harry just groans in his sleep, his hand comes up to slap at louis’ face in an attempt to silence him. He goes right back to snoring a moment later.

 

Louis gets out of bed and goes to take a bath. 

 

“I haven’t sweat this much since that bad summer four years ago!”

 

He is muttering when he walks back, one of the girls who works in the kitchen snickers on her way back carrying a bucket from the stable. Louis would care but it is too early in the day. When he returns, Harry is still fast asleep tangled up in the blankets he had kicked off in his sleep. Louis decides to make himself a cup of tea silently in the kitchen and settles back in next to Harry with Hamlet.

 

Harry wakes up just as he is on the last page, he pays him no mind when Harry just lies there staring up at him. he tries to concentrate and finish the story but after reading the same sentence six times, he gives up.

 

“Yes, Harry? Anything I can help you with?”

 

“No, just admiring my husband-to-be. You are a great person to just sit and admire.”

 

“First, you are not sitting you are still lying in bed. Second, if you think that those big green eyes are going to make me get out of this comfortable bed and make you tea then you are absolutely wrong.”

 

“Am I?”

 

He asks with wide, innocent eyes that Louis knows all too well by now. He tries, he does. But he has been fighting a losing battle since day one.

 

“Oh bloody!”

 

He gets out of bed and mumbles all the way to the kitchen about spoiled boys and all the way back. Even as he hands Harry his tea.

 

“Rich, spoiled-brat!”

 

“Thanks, Lou.”

 

How can he be angry with him, now.

 

“I have to ask you something. You can say no if you don’t--”

 

“What is it?”

 

“Well, I was wondering that since you asked me to marry you yesterday and your parents approve, I was thinking that maybe we could go to Yorkshire--”

 

“Oh bugger!”

 

“What? What happened? We don’t have to go if you don’t--”

 

“No! I mean, yes. We are going. I already talked to father about it yesterday and he said we can take the carriage and I was going to surprise you but now you know.”

 

He can only stare at Harry. This boy in front of him who has given him everything he could ask for and more. And who is still thinking about him, making him happy and giving him things he never thought he could ask for. God, he is going to break so bad if Harry is yanked away from him now. He is going to be destroyed.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“You are most welcome. Plus I want to see your sisters, and meet your mother. I hope she approves of me, do you think she will approve of me?”

 

“No, I thinks she will probably not like you like I did not in the beginning.”

 

Harry’s eyes widen in horror as if he genuinely believes that his mother could less than absolutely love him. He takes his teacup away and settles down next to him and kisses him,

 

“She will love you, I promise. And so will my sisters. Just like I do.”

 

Harry still seems a bit skeptical but he nods. Louis can feel anticipation settling under his bones. He is going to see his family after a year. 

 

His mother is going to be surprised to see him. And Felicity and Charlotte will be delighted, they will want to ask him everything about Longbourn and tell him everything about Doncaster in return. And the twins will be shocked to see him if they still remember him, he thinks sadly. But then he thinks about how much his Mum is going to love Harry and he just feels so happy in that moment, he could fly away.

 

*****

 

His mum screams and drops the bread basket she was holding when she sees him climbing out of the carriage. He rushes toward her immediately and picks her up. She makes a sound of surprise before laughing loudly with her head thrown back and Louis wants to remember her like this forever. She kisses his cheeks when he finally lets her go. Her eyes flicker to something behind and him and he turns around to find Harry trying and failing miserably to get out of the carriage gracefully. Louis feels himself roll his eyes at him and when he turns around, he finds his mum looking at him fondly. He flushes and looks away.

 

“I am so happy to see you, but you should have told me you were coming! I almost fainted just now when I saw you!”

 

“What fun would that be, then? I wanted to surprise you and the girls. Where are they, then?”

 

“The twins are inside and Charlotte and Felicity must be coming back from town.”

 

“Well, let’s go see them then!”

 

“Louis?”

 

“Yes, mum?”

 

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

 

He looks around and does not realize what she is talking about, when he turns to look at her he finds her eyes on trained on his hand where it is gripping Harry’s to lead him into the house. He drops it instantly.

 

“Um, this is Harry. Styles. Harry, this is my mum.”

 

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Tomlinson.”

 

“Charming, just like you said, Lou. And it’s nice to meet you, Harry.”

 

He looks away from where he knows Harry is staring at him when she mentions him telling her Harry is charming. Why did he have to say that? Now, Harry is never going to let him forget.

 

“Well, let’s get you inside. You must be tired from travelling for so long, I will put the kettle on.”

 

As soon as she disappears into the kitchen Harry is gripping his arm tightly.

 

“Do you think she likes me? I do not think she does. What if she does not approve--”

 

“Mum, could you come here for a second?”

 

He yells loudly much to the horror of Harry who lets out a surprised yelp before covering his mouth with his hand and glaring at Louis. He just chuckles at his antics.

 

“Yes, love?”

 

“Harry here has something he wants to ask you.”

 

Louis leans back in his chair and watches the two of them look at each other silently. A moment passes. 

 

“Mrs. Tomlinson, I have something important that I must ask you. I realize that you hardly know me, and I should probably wait for a bit before asking you this but it is really important to me. I, Louis. I love your son, I admire him and respect him and completely love him and have asked him to marry me. I know I should have asked for your blessing first but I just, I needed him to say--”

 

“Yes. Harry, I can see it on your face, darling. And everything you have said just now, how can I object after that. Plus, I have never seen Louis so happy albeit a little lost in his own head, but he needs it anyway. He is too serious, and you can give him what he needs so why would I object. I am just so happy for you both.”

 

Louis is a little bit stunned by the display of emotions right in front of him when he feels a weight against his back and gets a mouthful of blonde locks. The twins are suddenly in his lap and he is absolutely lost to everything else for the next hour. Harry and his mum are off somewhere talking about things he hopes are not embarrassing stories of him. He spends the full hour just listening to the girls talking and playing with them. They eventually get bored of him and move on to Harry. His curls are apparently equally irresistible to children.

 

He is just pouring himself a glass of water in the kitchen when his mum comes to stand beside him.

 

“He is beautiful and absolutely charming. And smart too, just like you said.”

 

“I still did not like him when I wrote you that letter.”

 

“Call it a mother’s instinct but I knew that you did. I told Charlotte you would definitely fall in love with him.”

 

“My own mother! I cannot believe you bet on me like a race-horse!”

 

“Oh quit being so dramatic! I just know you and you only fuss over things you like and are curious about. Plus, you would not stop talking about his eyes, what was I to assume? Although, they are every bit as beautiful as you said they were.”

 

“I am glad you approve, then!”

 

“I do, darling. I saw you looking at him and I remember looking at your father that same way. He looks at you like that too, you know. Just like I caught your dad looking sometimes. He absolutely loves you.”

 

“Alright, well enough about him. I have some money with me, remind me to hand it to you when I unpack.”

 

“Louis, I need to talk to you about something. I have been--”

 

“If you need more money, I could arrange for it. Is everything alright? I can ask Mrs. Styles for a loan--”

 

“No, it is not that. I have been working with Dr. Bennet as a midwife. He pays me a steady sum to go in everyday and it has been really well around here. I have even saved up some money. Everything you sent in the last four months, I have it saved. I do not need you to send anymore, Louis.”

 

“What? Well, if. But I. Why did you not tell me? I could come back, I do not need to stay at Long--”

 

“You do. You have Harry now. And I know you like that place, the way you described it in your letters I know you like it there. I did not want to uproot you once again.”

 

He is left staring at her, she looks so content right now and Louis does not remember her looking like this is years. He just kisses her on the cheek silently.

 

“And I have something for you. This was your grandfather’s, he gave it to me to pass it on to you. I see that ring Harry gave you and you should give him this.”

 

She holds a gold band up to him and puts it in his hand.

 

“Mum, I cannot take this. You must keep--”

 

“It is yours, Louis. He left it to you.”

 

He takes the band silently and puts it in his breast pocket. They spend a good time standing in the kitchen talking about how everything in life somehow seems to have worked out. After all the harsh times they’ve been through, this a right blessing.

 

At the dinner table, everyone is talking over each other and it is all an excited frenzy that Harry can not seem to get enough of. He is grinning wide with his dimples and twinkling eyes, his mother just looks so satisfied and content and Louis catches her looking at him now and again. She looks proud when she looks around the table, he silently squeezes her hand and she smiles at him in return.

 

Charlotte seems a little too enamoured with Harry, he does not seem to notice the extra attention though. Louis and his mum laugh about it between themselves because they are both mean. When Louis does finally lean over and whisper in Harry’s ear that Charlotte probably fancies him, he blushes bashfully and lowers his eyes to the ground. Louis and his mum burst out laughing at his predicament. 

 

Harry makes him apologise later in bed when he pins down Louis with his massive hands and refuses to give him what he wants. As much as Louis tries to move himself, Harry holds him down and stares at him angrily till he apologizes. Only then does he start moving again at a punishing pace that has Louis crying out into the pillow. If he walks with a slight limp the next day, nobody mentions it.

 

They finally bid everyone goodbye after three days. Everybody cries - even Louis, although he insists he has something in his eye - and it is a strange mixture of sadness and happiness. The twins are not yet ready to let Harry go and Mum tells Louis to take care of himself and of Harry. He thinks it feels like they are Harry’s family and not his and he says as much which earns him a light slap on the arm.

 

“We are both your family.”

 

Louis smiles almost all the way back to Longbourn, except when he falls asleep on Harry’s shoulder again.

 

***

 

Time passes fast and the lads are back for another vacation soon enough. Zayn is absolutely delighted about his wedding in the Summer. Liam is stressed about it, he worries constantly even though Zayn tries to reassure him - sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.

 

Gemma and Niall are sickeningly in love as well, especially since it was decided that they would get married along with Zayn and Liam. 

 

There is another ball at Longbourn, marking the onset of Summer. Everyone is dressed to the nines and music echoes in the hall as Harry patiently waits by the front door for Louis to arrive. He had insisted that they both arrive separately. 

 

When he does walk through the door, Harry absolutely forgets to breathe for a moment till Louis comes up to him and touches his jaw lightly,

 

“Close your mouth, Harold. And do not do anything obscene here tonight.”

 

He warns Harry with a pointed look that he has learned means he is going to be punished if he does not obey.

 

Gemma and Niall are lost in each other, dancing and talking only with each other every moment and ignoring everyone else. Zayn and Liam are nowhere to be seen and Harry does not want or need to know where they are or what they are doing. 

 

They are standing next to the refreshments table when Louis pulls him out to the balcony. Harry remembers the last time the were here and shudders at the memory. He is about to ask Louis why they are here when he sees Louis kneeling down in front of him and he definitely misses a few breaths there.

 

“Oh.”

 

“Harry Edward Styles, will you accept this as my promise to love you and cherish you for all my life and beyond?”

 

He is left wordless, just staring at Louis looking up at him from under his eyelashes. His hand holding up the ring trembles a little and he bites his lip, looking worried - like Harry could say anything but yes.

 

“Yes! Of course, yes. God, I love you so.”

 

He is still feeling giddy half an hour later when Louis has excused himself to go dance with Gemma. He is playing with the ring on his finger when he hears someone behind him talking in hushed tones.

 

“--stable boy but now he has a fortune. Master Styles has twenty thousand pounds a year - that is quite a fortune, he would never have to work a day in his life.”

 

“He must be delighted, without any family connections or rank he now has--”

 

He has heard enough. 

 

When he turns around abruptly, the two ladies stop whispering and look horrified.

 

“You are right, I do have a fortune. And I have privilege, privilege that I get to share my life with someone I love. It is a right privilege to have Louis, he works for his money and earns it. Not like some of us, who get paid to do nothing. I could never be as accomplished as he is. 

 

And you are right, he has no family connections and no rank but I did not fall in love with his family connections or his class. I will not stand here and listen to you insult him for an accident of birth. Enjoy your evening.“

 

He walks out of the main hall. Louis comes looking for him a while later, he says Niall told him what happened. 

 

“You must not let it get to you, Harold. This is neither the first nor the last time we are going to hear this.”

 

“But I do not want to.”

 

“We all have to do things we do not want to. Just like you are going to learn how to ride a horse this summer.”

 

He groans loudly at the reminder of that unpleasant conversation.

 

“But why?”

 

“If you expect me to come after you every time you almost die in the cold because you are stupid enough to go walking alone, then you are absolutely mistaken.”

 

“You would not come save me, then? Just let me tremble and die?”

 

“Oh for god’s sake, Harold. Have you been practising doing that with your eyes in the mirror? You are such a menace!”

 

“Would you come?”

 

“Anywhere for you, love.”

 

He flashes him a quick smile before standing up and asking for his hand. Louis obliges silently.

 

“Let’s go for a walk.”

 

They walk outside into the late evening sun, hands entwined. Harry lets out a deep breath and smells in the summer air.

 

“Have you read the inscription on the ring?”

 

He stops abruptly and pulls his hand back to get the ring off.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me there was an inscription?”

 

He finally gets the band off and turns it around in his fingers to read what is written inside. 

 

‘Harry Styles, Always in my heart.’

 

He does not care that they are outside and anyone could see them, just surges forward and brushes his lips against Louis’. His fingers hold on to Louis’ face delicately as he chastely kisses him once, twice and just once more.

 

He drops his hands from his face and intertwines one with Louis’ again before they start walking again. The summer sun casting beautiful shadows across Louis’ face.

 

“We should have a summer wedding too. Near the lake.”

 

Louis just grips his hand tighter.

 

“And visit your family again. They should come here for the wedding. And I want to take you to Birmingham too, meet all of my other friends there and show you all the old men with DSc.’s who taught me. Maybe we could go to Ireland with Niall and Gemma. And we should look for a house in London.”

 

“Anything you want, darling.”

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it was a privilege writing for you all. I hope it was worth it, in the end.
> 
> PS: If you're having trouble picturing Louis calling Harry 'darling', look for that clip of him calling a fan that. It sounds like heaven music in his voice, trust me on this. 
> 
> Also, check out this gem on my tumblr: http://hoechl-bear.tumblr.com/post/81298273376/queerturtle-do-you-believe-in-love-at-first


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